A Digital Frontier
by rinzlerkitty
Summary: Post-Legacy. A newly rebooted Ram must learn to adapt to the new system and take care of a physically and mentally scarred Tron as ENCOM introduces the real world to Kevin Flynn's Digital Frontier.
1. Chapter 1

"Oh my User," Ram groaned as he came to. Everything ached, his circuits sparking painfully here and there in the rebooting process. The little program blinked, his blurry surroundings slowly solidifying into distinguishable shapes.

He realized with a jolt of panic that he had absolutely no idea where he was. The rocky terrain was completely unfamiliar. It didn't even look like the same _system_. He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring how his legs shook violently beneath him. He gave them an annoyed glance, irritated with his own functions. Yet instead he found himself gasping, his knees buckling with shock and bringing him back down to the ground hard.

Ram whimpered a little, forcing himself into a sitting position. He held his arms out in front of him, examining them with a mixture of fear and awe.

It looked as though he'd been completely rewritten. Instead of his usual grey with bright blue circuitry, his color scheme had changed to black with bluish-white circuitry. Even the criss-crossing patterns all over his body were different than he remembered.

Ram panicked, cradling his head in his hands. Yet even that felt wrong. Instead of the cool, hard surface of his helm, the actuary's fingers met thick, curly hair.

This wasn't happening. It _couldn't_ be happening. It was impossible, wasn't it? The only thing that could have possibly rewritten him would have had to have been-

From the back of Ram's hard drive, a memory resurfaced. The light cycles destroyed...agony throbbing through all his circuits...Flynn carrying him...the Recognizer...Flynn had done something to it...because he was...he was...

Pain flashed through the program's head and he winced, rubbing his temples.

"Flynn's a User," he murmured aloud, trying to make sense of his confused memories.

"Very good Ram, you're remembering quickly," came an approving voice from behind. Ram started in surprise and turned to face the voice, blinking rapidly. An old man sat cross-legged behind the program, wearing a kind smile behind his gray-and-white speckled beard. He looked vaguely familiar and the actuary frowned, trying to recall.

"Take it easy, man," the stranger chuckled good-naturedly. "Don't push yourself. Take it slow. It'll all come back eventually."

Ram was far too stubborn for that. His frown deepened and he thought hard. The voice and vernacular triggered something in his memory but he couldn't quite connect the dots just yet.

"Seriously, Ram, I mean it," the man said, now adopting a tone of anxiety. "You've got through some serious recoding. You're not looking too good, man."

That phrase...he _knew_ he'd heard it before. Ram peered at the familiar stranger once more, straining to look past the beard.

"Flynn!" he exclaimed suddenly, eyes widening.

A grin stole across the User's face. "Welcome back, Ram."

The little program laughed, beaming at his friend. "You rewrote me?"

Flynn nodded. "I got your coding from Roy and did the best I could. I did have to adjust your programming a bit to fit the system," he explained. "You were a little outdated. No offense, man."

Ram took it in, nodding slowly. He ran a hand through his curls, feeling the alien-ness of it. Judging by Flynn's appearance, Ram had been gone for a long time. His last few memories resurfaced again and he winced.

"I derezzed, huh?" he asked softly.

Flynn's grin disappeared and he nodded soberly. "Ages ago," he replied in an equally soft voice.

Ram swallowed. "Uh, how long, exactly?"

The User did some quick math in his head. Ram had been gone for seven years before Flynn found himself trapped by his own creation. Then there was the conversion from years into cycles. "Fourteen hundred cycles," he answered finally. "Roughly."

"Oh User," the actuary breathed softly. Fourteen _hundred_ cycles...That was an incredibly long time. He could hardly calculate that. It was much longer than he'd even _lived_.

"A lot of things have changed, Ram," Flynn said gently, reaching out to take the little program by the shoulders. "But just remember that Tron and I will always be your friends. We've got a lot of influence in this system. If you need _anything_, don't hesitate to ask, okay?" He squeezed the other's shoulders and smiled kindly at him.

Ram was clearly having difficulty with this, but he smiled all the same, or at least attempted to. One part of what Flynn said greatly attracted his attention and he chose to address that.

"Can...can I see Tron?" he asked hesitantly.

Flynn smiled in understanding and nodded. Tron and Ram had been close when he'd fallen into the Games with them. No doubt Tron was as eager to see his old friend as Ram was. He stood and offered the actuary a hand up.

"You need some time to recharge and rest. I'll take you back to my place and maybe Tron will stop by, alright? I don't want to have you exerting yourself too much too early."

Ram took the proffered hand, pulling himself up. He nodded and stood, his legs shaking slightly beneath him. The User caught him under the elbow, keeping a hand there as a support, should Ram's strength fail him again.

"This is a new system entirely?" Ram asked, looking around curiously as he stumbled along beside Flynn.

"Mostly," came the reply. "After everything with the MCP, I figured I may as well rebuild the system to help it recover more quickly. So, I took some of the basic coding from the old system and created the Grid. A few of the more important programs from the old system were adjusted to function in a more effective way so the whole thing could advance and work out properly."

Ram blinked in some surprise. The User had obviously grown out of being the clumsy, hyperactive person he'd remembered. He was older, of course, and more mature, more serious. Less playful. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.

"If anyone had told me that you would go so far as to do that when I first met you..." he laughed.

Flynn grinned, a remnant of that attitude Ram knew reappearing. "I know."

"You've changed a lot, Flynn," the program commented.

The User's smile faded slightly. "I suppose I have," he replied more seriously. "We all have."

By the time they made it to Flynn's main residence, someone was already waiting there. Two someones, actually, both curled comfortably against each other in one of the couches. A dark haired girl unfolded herself from the couch and stood, gently shrugging off the arm of the man beside her. Ram's attention was instantly drawn to the shimmering mark on a her arm. It was an unusual pattern, different from anything he'd ever seen before, and it pulsed with an odd bluish light. She caught his glance, her pale eyes focusing in on him and watching him curiously.

"Sam, Quorra." Flynn smiled at the two, throwing an arm around Ram's shoulders and gently nudging him forward to approach the visitors. "Meet Ram. We were in the Games together back in the old system."

The girl smiled suddenly, her face lighting up as she stepped forward and held out a hand to the newly rebooted program. "I'm Quorra," she said with a cooked grin. "I'm an ISO. Flynn took care of me for a thousand cycles."

Ram grinned and took the proffered hand. Quorra's grip was firm and strong despite her small, slim fingers. It wasn't hard for him to recognize that look in her. He'd seen it plenty in the Games. This girl was all too familiar with combat, combat she'd been forced into. "Nice to meetcha," Ram replied brightly.

"And you," she replied, smiling. She shot her companion a Look and he got up from the couch with slight reluctance, offering Ram a sheepish grin.

"Sam Flynn," he said by way of introduction. "User. Flynn's my dad."

The actuary's grin widened. "A User! It's an honor."

Sam shrugged and didn't reply, sharing a quick smile with Quorra. Flynn clapped Ram on the shoulder and released him, giving him a little push towards the seat that Sam and Quorra had just vacated. "Sit down and make yourself at home, Ram. I have a feeling these two came here for a reason."

The younger Flynn nodded and launched into it right away. "ENCOM wants you at the gala. The Board Chairman," he smirked, "thought it would be a good idea. No one knows you're alive yet, and he figured that stocks would go way up when you make your appearance.

Flynn smiled wryly. "Oh, Alan thinks that, does he? Have you introduced Quorra to the public yet?"

The ISO shifted uncomfortably. "I'm no good with crowds just yet," she admitted. "I spent too much of my time avoiding them. And honestly people don't have any reason to believe I am what I say I am." She hesitated for a moment. "But if _you_ introduce me, not at the gala, but later, then maybe it would work better."

"Sounding like a User already, Q," Flynn commented approvingly. Quorra beamed. "Well, I don't know," he continued thoughtfully. "Those are great ideas, but give your old man a little time to think about it, alright?"

Sam grinned. "About that...Alan's already promised the board something amazing this year. He's been telling them that this gala will bring the spirit of Kevin Flynn back into ENCOM beyond anything we've seen since the eighties."

"It's your company, Flynn," Quorra tacked on helpfully. "We need your help."

The older man chuckled, smiling fondly at the couple before him. "Your company now, kiddo," he told Sam. "But since you two are so insistent...I suppose I'll make a cameo at the gala."

"Great," replied Sam, clearly pleased. "Thanks Dad."

"Sure. Now why don't you two run back home and let Alan know I'll be around?"

The ISO hesitated. "There was something I've been wanting to ask you," she began, looking up at her mentor from beneath dark lashes.

"What's up, Q?"

"Sam said he'd buy me a motorcycle if you said that it was okay," she said in a rush. "I know, here I can drive or fly just about whatever I want, but not out there. Sam has his Ducati and I just thought I could use one of my own or when I'm not with him, and you _know_ how good I am when it comes to vehicles of any sort-"

"Hey, slow down, man!" Flynn interrupted, laughing. "That's fine by me, just be careful."

Quorra clapped her hands together excitedly and hugged her mentor tightly. "Thank you Flynn!"

Sam rolled his eyes at her slightly exaggerated response and tucked her under his arm after she released his father.

"Alright, we'll get out of your hair now," Sam said loudly. "Alan wants all of us at his place for dinner some time, if you feel like dropping by."

"I'll keep that in mind," Flynn agreed. "I've got a few more programs to rewrite and get them settled before I can. I was thinking once I get enough security programs running that I'd take Tron out with me."

The ISO raised a dubious eyebrow. "You think he's ready for that? After everything that's happened?"

"Well, having Ram around ought to help him. Those two were tight, man. They fought together in the Games ages before I showed up." They all glanced over at the little actuary, who'd clearly dozed off, his head slumped onto his chest. Flynn smiled slightly. "Okay, you two, watch out for each other. I've got this guy I need to take care of."

"See you around, Dad."

"Bye, Flynn." Quorra stretched up on her toes to kiss him lightly on the cheek and he chuckled, ruffling her short hair. She smiled brightly at him and turned to leave, threading her fingers through Sam's and waving with her free hand. Flynn turned back to face his new ward.

"Never have kids," he told the sleeping program with a small smile. "They figure out exactly how to get to you."

He sat down beside Ram and put a hand on his forehead. The actuary stirred, stifling a yawn as he blinked sleepily at the User.

"Ooops, sorry Flynn," he apologized, stretching a bit. "I only meant to close my eyes and I guess I just powered down by accident."

"Don't apologize, man. You need your rest. I just thought you'd be more comfortable on the bed."

"Bed?" Ram lit up visibly. He hadn't seen a bed since before his time in the Games. For over 200 millicycles he'd had to make do with sleeping on the ground, which usually left him achy and sore when he rebooted.

Flynn chuckled at his old friend's reaction. "There's two extra rooms. You can user one for as long as you like until you're ready to find your own place."

"Thank you!" the program exclaimed sincerely, more than a little excited about the thought of a bed.

"Come on." The User smiled kindly and took Ram's forearm to pull him up. The smaller of the two teetered a bit before finding his feet and grinned sheepishly. He _really_ needed to recharge.

Flynn made sure to keep a supporting arm around Ram's shoulders as he guided him gently into the room that had once been Quorra's. It was clean and tidy, the main feature being the medium sized bed against the wall and the small lamp beside it. Directly across from the bed was the long rectangular window that looked out on the small area that served as a backyard, the pool of shimmering energy casting a frail shaky glow on the window. Beside that was the oval shaped mirror and pure white dresser.

All Ram really noticed was the neatly made bed, so warm and inviting. He collapsed into it with a happy little sigh, curling up on it and promptly shutting down. The last coherent thoughts running through his CPU were of Tron.


	2. Chapter 2

Just as the actuary's last thoughts the night previously had been of Tron, so were his first. The ground felt unusually comfortable and Ram wasn't quite ready to get up, just as always. Doubtless Tron was already up and running, and he'd know, just as he always did, the exact moment of Ram's return to consciousness. Must be some sort of security program thing, what with all their scanning processes and intimate knowledge of the system. Tron would be telling him to get up any nanocycle now, maybe teach him something new that would ultimately end up saving his existence at some point during the Games.

Any nanocycle now...Ram didn't bother opening his eyes just yet. Tron had been becoming more taciturn and withdrawn with every passing millicycle, and this was one of their few moments where they could talk and enjoy each other's company before some of Sark's lackeys showed up and spoiled Tron's mood.

The security program never made his smaller friend wait this long without saying something. Ram's eyes opened, taking in the tidy white room blankly for a moment before it all came rushing back. He was at Flynn's place, rewritten to adapt to a completely new system. Ram sat up and yawned, stretching and taking in his own unfamiliar circuitry. He ruffled his own curls, which he was actually starting to like now that he was getting used to them.

He felt a thousand times better than he had the previous millicycle. He was obviously still adjusting to his new coding, but now he felt less like a stranger and more like himself. Ram slid out of bed, pleased to find that this legs were supporting him now that he was back at maximum power, and he carefully remade the wrinkled sheets. He looked around the room curiously, gazing around with interest. He approached the mirror, a little surprised at the reflection that met his gaze. He prodded his rather large nose and tried to calculate what color his eyes were. After a few moments, he grinned at himself and nodded, watching his brown curls flop around with a laugh that was almost a giggle. He liked that face in the mirror. It was definitely still Ram and he nodded approvingly once more. Yep. That would work.

He explored the room for a little longer before growing bored. He pushed the door open and stepped out into the main area of residence. Flynn was nowhere to be found, so Ram took it upon himself to discover a little more about his surroundings. The room intrigued him, filled with all sorts of things he could only assume were digitalized versions of common User items. Ram skipped over to a shelf full of odd rectangles that opened up to reveal sheaves of squiggly symbols. He recognized them as letters, but Ram had never learned how to read this odd language. The actuary had only needed to know how to read binary and other mathematical code. As those were the only languages he had used to communicate with his User, learning to read another had seemed excessive at the time of his initial programming. Now, however, he was reconsidering. Maybe Flynn could teach him to read these confusing squiggles.

He wandered over to the hearth and crouched down beside it, curiously examining the odd data cylinders from which a visible flow of energy and data particles emanated. Yet the oddest part was that it seemed to give off _heat_. Ram reached out hesitantly to touch it.

A moment later he yanked his hand back with a yelp. The circuitry in his fingertips had turned bright red and throbbed painfully.

"Owwww," he complained, sucking his hurt fingers and blowing on them lightly.

"Everything okay, Ram?" Flynn stepped in from outside where he'd been meditating, a slight frown on his face. Upon seeing the little actuary crouched in front of the hearth and cradling his fingers, however, he had to fight back a smile.

"It _hurt_ me!" Ram exclaimed, scandalized.

Flynn couldn't help but laugh at the outburst. "It's a fire, man. It gives off heat. It'll burn if you get too close."

He crossed the distance between them and gently took Ram's wrist, examining his burnt fingers. Interesting. He'd never seen a program burn before. The circuitry in Ram's fingers glowed scarlet and he did his best to help, sending some Grid energy into the actuary's burns to take the edge off the pain. After a moment the User released his hand and Ram looked at it. His fingertips were still cherry red but the pain had faded.

"Thanks," he murmured, examining his hand. Flynn's User abilities unsettled him a bit. It would take a while to adjust to that. While he'd always believed in the Users and their godlike powers, it was still unnerving to see someone he had once known and trusted do things that _really should not _be possible. Ram was hardly unfaithful or disbelieving. It was just that this was _Flynn_ doing all this.

The dull thumping of boots on tile announced a visitor and the two looked up expectantly, Ram still wiggling his red fingers.

Curious to see what programs in the new system looked like exactly, Ram took in the sleek black suit first, admiring how the design clung to the wearer yet still managed to look stylish. Much more stylish than the ones from the old system, anyway. The visible circuitry was very limited on this program, only a few white spots here and there. The main feature of the suit, however, was the symbol splashed across the chest: three horizontal squares, with a square coming down vertically from the center square.

Tron.

Caught up in his current objective, Tron hardly gave the actuary a glance before focusing his attention on the User.

"Flynn, I ran into Sam on his way back to the Portal and he mentioned that you—"

Tron trailed off as his eyes went back to the smallish program beside Flynn. Ram was gazing up steadily at him, lips trembling slightly as he took in the face of his old friend. It was almost exactly the way he remembered it, the strong, almost stern set of the jaw, the dark, intelligent eyes.

A confused mixture of horror, sympathy, and ardent affection flooded Ram's eyes and made it impossible to speak or even breathe properly.

Tron stared in disbelief at the little actuary, unable to fully comprehend. His gaze flickered to Flynn, questioning. The User nodded, smiling gently. He clapped the two on the shoulders silently and retreated back to his room. He had a feeling he was getting in the way of a reunion that had been fourteen hundred cycles in the making.

Both programs watched him go before turning back to each other. Ram reached out hesitantly, fingers brushing lightly over the exposed data. Tron winced slightly but made no move to stop him, still watching his oldest friend in awed shock.

Unable to take the suspense any longer, Ram stepped forward and embraced the other tightly. A tiny almost-sob slipped from his lips and he buried his head in Tron's chest.

Tron blinked, but then the spell broke and his arms wrapped around to hold the smaller Program close. His head dipped down to rest lightly on Ram's, nuzzling the soft brown curls affectionately. He let out a contented rumble, a soft 'rrrr'ing sound akin to that of a cat's purr. Ram giggled a little and snuggled closer. Tron was here now and nothing else mattered.

Tron's chuckle echoed that of his friend's. User, it felt so good to laugh again. He breathed in Ram's temporary "new program smell" and sighed, purring happily.

At length they broke apart, both grinning in that silly way that better befitted earlier cycles.

"Ram," Tron said contentedly.

"Hey Tron," the actuary replied easily, bursting into a happy giggle.

Then they were hugging again, each one laughing like he hadn't in ages. They were reunited again, the dynamic duo, and there was no way they'd ever be separated again. This time, when they pulled apart, Tron kept a hand on Ram's shoulder. Ram wound his arm around the other program's extended arm and grinned. After being apart for so long, it felt good to keep the contact again.

"You're back," Tron commented, making Ram giggle again.

"I guess there's perks to being friends with a User," he replied.

"That there is." It was so much easier to be Tron around Ram. The majority of his warring coding had been modified and adjusted to as close to his original programming as Flynn could manage, but parts of Rinzler simply could not be removed. Clu's alterations had been in place for too long.

"Tron? Are you okay?" Ram asked worriedly.

Tron blinked again, recollecting himself and nodding. "I was calculating what things will be like now that you're returned."

Ram nodded. What _would_ things be like now? Different, obviously. Flynn had warned him Tron wouldn't quite be himself, at least, not exactly like the Tron he remembered. Ram was already starting to see that.

"You're sure you're alright?" Ram asked again as the silence stretched on.

"Better now that you're here," Tron replied truthfully. "Things have…changed, Ram. I've changed."

Ram sighed a little. "Flynn mentioned that you'd be different."

A brief flash of panic and pain flickered through the security program's eyes and Ram frantically wondered what he'd said wrong and if he could take it back.

"Exactly how much did Flynn tell you?" Tron asked, his grip on the actuary's shoulder growing so tight it was almost painful, yet his voice stayed calm and carefully controlled.

Ram winced slightly. "N-not much. Just that you'd been through a lot." Ram hated himself for it, but right now, he was almost scared of his friend. "T-Tron is everything okay?"

Perhaps Tron saw that look on his friend's face, for he quickly let go of the other's shoulder and forced a smile that the Ram didn't believe for a nanocycle. "Fine. I've just got to talk to Flynn for a moment."

He turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving Ram confused and a little hurt.

It was only natural that Ram should want to hear what Tron suddenly needed to say to the Creator, so when Tron disappeared into Flynn's room, the actuary followed to listen at the door.

He hesitated a long moment before it. Honesty and loyalty were programmed into him and was a natural part of his original purposes of serving at an insurance company. This, though, this felt like a violation of trust.

Still. He had to know. Tron was different and he needed Ram's help. Somehow, deep in his CPU, he knew this. His programming was the way it was so that he could best help people. And no one, no one, was more important to him than Tron.

Decision made, Ram leaned in against the door and pressed his ear to it.

"Flynn, how could you do this?" Tron fumed, glaring angrily at the User.

Flynn raised an eyebrow. "Tron. I brought him back for you. You need a friend who understands you. That will _help_ you. You needed Ram."

"This isn't about me!" Tron shouted, pacing back and forth. "It's about _him_! He might have understood me before, but not since he derezzed, and certainly not now. How can I even _face_ him after what I've done? How can I tell him?"

Flynn tolerated the program's anger silently and without moving. "I know this is hard on you, but—"

"Hard on me, Flynn? On _me_? Have you thought about Ram at all? He looks up to me! He respects me! If I tell him, it'll _destroy_ him!"

The Creator sighed heavily. "Listen, man, I'm sorry you feel that way." His voice grew firm. "But Ram's stronger than he was before, and you aren't going to be able to move past this without someone there for you all the time, someone who cares about you. I can't do that because of the other duties I have to the Grid, but Ram _can_. It's in his programming."

"I can't hurt him like this," Tron murmured, sinking down to sit on the bed beside his old friend. He slumped forward, head in his hands. "What I've become…I can't let him see that…I don't think I can do that to him."

Flynn put a reassuring arm around the security program's shoulders and squeezed lightly. "Don't worry about it, man," he said gently. "You're Tron again. Not Rinzler. That's your past, and I know how strong you are. You can do this. It won't be easy, but you can do it. We both know Ram well enough to know that he'll never give up on you."

"But can he forgive me? I've…Flynn, I've…done horrible things. If I can't even forgive myself, then how can I expect him to?"

Ram had listened enough. He pulled away from the door and sunk down into a sitting position, contemplating. What was it Tron had done that he thought Ram couldn't forgive him for? Ram would _always_ forgive him, didn't he know that? Tron meant so much to him. As the Champion of the Game Grid, he'd protected his little friend and taught him everything he knew about combat. Granted, Ram wasn't half as good as Tron was, but the things that he'd learned had kept him alive . He and Tron had nurtured their faith in the Users together, kept each other going when it seemed like the torment would never end. He trusted and admired him above all other programs.

Tron knew all that. How could he not? So what _was_ it that he'd done that he was so afraid of telling Ram?


	3. Chapter 3

Tron left soon after, much to Ram's displeasure. As the monitor brushed past, Ram caught him by the elbow, fingers wrapping around his arm tightly.

"Tron," he began, pleading in his eyes and voice. "Stay with me for a while."

The security program smiled tightly and gently unlatched himself from his friend. "I'll be back, Ram," he promised. He ruffled the little program's curls lightly and swept out the door, leaving Ram gazing dejectedly after him.

"Don't expect too much too early," Flynn said after a pause, watching the actuary from his doorway. "He'll come around eventually, but it's going to take some time."

Guilt washed over Ram. "I listened in to your conversation," he admitted sheepishly.

The User smiled sadly. "I know. I was hoping you would."

Ram sighed and hugged himself, nodding. Poor Tron. He wished he could help him properly, but without knowing the entire situation, it would be difficult to tell what he could or could not say. He knew more than he had previously, so he was slightly better off, but even so.

An idea slowly began to form and he turned back to the other.

"Flynn, is information in this system free? I mean, can everyone access it?" he asked.

Flynn considered. "Well, almost all of it is available to all Programs. There are some more specific coding details that can only be viewed with admin access as a safety protocol. Are you looking for something in particular?"

_Yes._ Ram bit down on his lip to keep himself quiet. "Nothing really specific. I just thought I might go check out an I/O tower and see for myself what's happened," he explained. "Even in the old system, they kept detailed records on everything that happened."

The User nodded. "Of course. I was going to rewrite a program or two, but if you like, I can take you to the closest tower."

"No, that's alright," the actuary replied quickly. "I'd rather go alone, and I don't want to get in the way of your work."

"Suit yourself. Don't get lost."

Ram waved once before stepping outside. The barren, unfriendly terrain of the Outlands greeted him and he glanced over towards where he knew the city lay. He couldn't see it from here. A rack of batons propped up beside the door caught his eye and he reached out to take one. A little marking on the end indicated it was that of a lightcycle and he smiled to himself. That was something he knew well. Ram launched himself forward and pulled the baton apart, watching the 'cycle rezz around him. It felt more comfortable on all sides than the previous design and the actuary was especially glad that he wasn't hunched over uncomfortably in an area too small for even him.

The 'cycle was one of a newer model that Flynn had been working on for some time, an all-terrain bike designed to function on and off the main Grid. It was faster than even the vintage that Clu had captured some cycles previously. It leapt forward, engine purring loudly as it spit out rocks from beneath the tires. Ram let out a shout of excitement, grinning as the wind whipped his curls every which way. There was something about riding a lightcycle that was so exhilarating, and the handling on this one was just beautiful. He sped happily across the rocky Outlands and glanced around, quickly spotting the closest I/O tower.

Even though the system was incredibly different from the one Ram had known, some things had to stay close to the same. The I/O tower was one of those things. Not necessarily that it _looked_ the same, but that it was the same. All of Ram's functions heightened around it and it sent out the same tingly, crawly feeling.

One lightcycle ride later, Ram found himself gawking up at the tower. As he tucked away his baton, he couldn't help but wondering absently if his original User was aware that he'd been rebooted. He made a mental note to check if there were any messages left from him.

First things first, to see for himself what had happened in Flynn's system since its inception. This was the easiest place for programs to access information directly from the system. Ram approached one of the access panels glowing faintly on the walls and put his hand to it, closing his eyes and diving into the data stream.

At first, the sheer _amount_ of information overwhelmed him and he faltered. Everything flickered oddly at the corners, and then, abruptly, he was fine. Ram relaxed and sifted through the data, easily finding the records of the system.

Apparently the system had been around since just after Ram's deresolution. He skimmed through the origins of the system, rather pleased to find that Tron had always been an integral part of everything. There was also another there had had helped Flynn and Tron. Codified Likeness Utility, or Clu.

Things went wrong somehow. Clu was corrupted and went rogue. Threatened Flynn and supposedly killed Tron.

Ram shivered violently.

_Tron, repurposed by Clu into the Black Guard known as Rinzler. Rinzler, Clu's right hand man, head of the Black Guards…ruthless killer. Slaughtered thousands in the Games, which were once again turned barbaric, and actively participated in the annihilation of the programs known as ISOs. The genocide of a peaceful people, an extremely unique race that Flynn had been delighted with and Clu had felt threatened by._

_Flynn forced into exile with the very last of the ISOs. Quorra. Rinzler searched for them on Clu's orders but never managed to find or capture them. Assisted in the rectifying of millions of programs, again on Clu's orders. Captured the last ISO and brought her to Clu, knowing she faced a fate worse than death._

_Yet Sam Flynn had saved her, saved them all. Oddly enough, his life had been spared upon initiation into the Grid during the Games by the same Rinzler._

_Rinzler attacked and fired on Sam, Quorra, and Flynn. At the pivotal moment, however, he'd fought back. He turned on Clu. Flynn reintegrated the rogue program and miraculously survived. Yet the program he pulled out of the Sea of Simulation was no longer Rinzler, but Tron. He'd emerged horribly scarred, unable to face what he'd done_.

Ram staggered backwards, reeling with the overflow of information. _This_ was what Tron hadn't wanted him to know. He almost wished he hadn't sought out the truth himself. It was agonizing to face.

Tron…Tron derezzing _millions_ of innocents…He _wouldn't_….

Ram's breath came in fast and uneven as he trembled. His circuits sparked and flickered uncertainly. It was too much to take in. Too much too compute. His eyes fluttered back into his head and he shut down, collapsing onto the cold ground

Some immeasurable time later, Ram blinked awake, sitting up with a soft groan. An unfamiliar system monitor was kneeling beside him, but they were all unrecognizable with the black helmets that hid their faces from view. He instinctively scanned the program's chest, almost relieved to discover that it wasn't Tron.

"Are you functional?" the monitor asked with a hint of concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ram muttered, massaging his temples. In all honesty he felt awful, oddly weak and shaky. "I think I tried to upload too much information at once."

"You are Ram?" the stranger guessed.

The actuary blinked and nodded. "Yeah," he replied, a little confused.

"I am Anon. Flynn sent me after you."

Oh. Ram nodded again and wondered how long he'd been shut down. Silently, Anon held out a hand for Ram and helped pull him upwards. The actuary gave the other a small smile of thanks.

Now that he thought about it, that had been rather odd. Ram had never been prone to fainting spells and he'd been designed to handle larger amounts of information. That shouldn't've been enough to initiate a shut down. He must just be still adapting to being so newly rerezzed. That might have been too great a strain simply because he was so fresh in this system, not to mention the information had been so deeply personal. That had to be it. There was no other logical explanation.

As he stepped out of the tower, Ram had the oddest feeling that there was something else he had wanted to do here, but he couldn't think of what it was.

Ram felt very strange after that, still unsteady and shivery. Anon, who he had learned had also been recently rerezzed, escorted him back to Flynn's place before returning to duty with Tron. Ram gave him a small smile goodbye before retreating back inside to Flynn.

The User smiled brightly at the actuary as he entered, which was only just barely returned with a shadow of his usual energy. That was unusual. Immediately Flynn was concerned.

"Everything okay?" he asked, watching the other closely.

"I don't know," Ram replied honestly, slumping down into a nearby chair.

"Did something happen?"

The program shrugged. "Just exploring the system," he mumbled. "I think I'll go power down for a while."

Flynn sighed and nodded. Obviously he wasn't getting anything out of Ram today. "Go ahead."

Ram trudged off to the room that was temporarily his, feeling the worried eyes of the Creator on his neck all the way there.

Tron sighed to himself as he sped along on his lightcycle, hardly concentrating on where he was going. Ram's expression when he'd walked away…Tron wished he could explain to him that he was just trying to protect him.

He knew that eventually he would have to tell Ram everything. Ram was not unintelligent and was one of the most stubborn programs Tron had ever encountered. He would know something was wrong, if he didn't know yet, and he wouldn't stop until he knew exactly what was going on. Tron could only sidestep his questions and sympathetic faces for so long, and avoiding him completely was out of the question. That would only serve to hurt them both, not to mention it would upset Flynn.

He derezzed his 'cycle and approached the silent squadron of monitors. Most of them had been, until very recently, Black Guards, and had worked beneath Rinzler at some point. And as difficult as it was for all of them to move past that, there was no denying that they functioned very well together.

Tron stopped, facing the line of programs, and planted his hands on his hips.

"Report," he ordered.

One of the monitors stepped forward. "Rumors of a virus have been confirmed."

"_User_," Tron swore under his breath, his scowl deepening. "Continue."

The program stepped back, only to have another monitor take his place. He was the only unhelmeted one of the lot, long black hair only partially hiding the thin scar that ran vertically from brow to chin. "It takes only a half millicycle before total infection is complete. The source is still undetermined. It appears to be originating from something considerably less conspicuous than the Abraxas virus and more like a corrupted data particle, though it is still powerful. Corrupted programs are two point seven five times stronger after infection."

Tron took it all in quietly, nodding. "Alright. Split into groups of two or three and take a Recognizer. Those should be able to locate infected programs. Retrieve all corrupted Programs and take them back to containment centers one and two. Use more if necessary."

He looked them over, assessing.

"Anon, you're with me. You have your orders. Commence."

There was a moment of hesitation. Then the scarred program spoke.

"Tron, wouldn't it be better to simply derezz them? Infected programs are only destructive and very dangerous to the system. Containing them would only be a waste of space."

A ghost of a smile crossed Tron's face. It was actually nice to hear some objection after working alongside the Black Guards for so long.

"We've derezzed too many programs. These are good people who've been corrupted against their will," he replied firmly. "Flynn may be able to help them, and we aren't using those facilities for anything at the moment. But I do appreciate you speaking up, Norton. We're stronger when we can talk these things out. Are there any more questions?"

No one spoke and the head of the monitors nodded in satisfaction. "Alright. Time is of the essence. Now get going."


	4. Chapter 4

~Chapter Four~

The next millicycle was one of the busiest Tron had ever experienced. It was absolutely essential to locate and contain all of the infected programs, but the number kept increasing. The virus spread fast and until the source was determined, it was near impossible to keep up with all it.

Try as they might, Tron and Anon couldn't contain all of the infected Programs. A good number of them put up too much of a struggle and had to be derezzed. This bothered Tron, but there was nothing to be done about it. In some cases, it was either a virus or the monitors, and the logical course of action there was impossible to refute.

He found himself at Flynn's doorstep just as the millicycle came to a close. He needed a break, if only for a few nanocycles, and the other monitors were handling things as best they could, well enough to manage without their leader.

And he'd promised Ram he'd come back soon.

The monitor took a deep breath and stepped inside, the darkened panels lighting up beneath his feet. Flynn was sitting cross-legged on the floor, clearly in the middle of meditating, and Tron hesitated. He didn't want to interrupt, and Ram apparently wasn't here. He had half a mind to leave before Flynn uncurled himself from the floor and stood, turning around to face the program.

"Tron," he said simply, smiling gently.

"Hello, Flynn," came the slightly awkward reply. Then his instincts kicked in and he did what he did best these days: he spewed information. "You most likely already know this, but there's been confirmed rumors of a virus in the system. Not as obvious or even as tangible as Abraxas. The source is something much more subtle, but we haven't quite found it yet."

The User listened carefully, nodding a bit even as a small frown curved his lips downward. "And what have you done to prevent any further infection, then?"

Tron hesitated only half a moment. "All of the system's monitors are working nonstop at locating and capturing infected programs to keep in the holding facilities at the very edge of the Grid. Norton and his team are searching for the source, but so far there's been no luck."

"Have them check for similarities in the infected programs," Flynn suggested. "You might find something there."

"I'll let them know," the monitor replied. "For security reasons, it would be best if you halted your work on rewriting programs at least until the virus has been stopped. Also, it could be dangerous to have anyone entering or exiting the system right now. The virus may be able to spread to the User world."

The other considered for a moment, nodding slowly. "Yes, you're right. I'll shoot Sam and Quorra a text and tell them to stay away until further notice."

He glanced back at the closed door to Ram's room, frowning slightly. Tron followed his eyes and raised an eyebrow. "Where is he?" he asked curiously.

Flynn opened his mouth to explain Ram had shut himself in his room since Tron's last visit, then decided against it. "I'll go get him," he said instead. "I'm sure he'd rather not miss out on seeing you. Why don't you sit down?"

The security Program complied even as Flynn got to his feet and padded lightly to Ram's room, bare feet making no sound on the lighted tile. He quietly opened the door and stepped inside. The actuary was sprawled out and powered down on the bed yet again, his mouth half open and his hand drooping off the edge of the bed. The User noted with some concern that he was still worryingly pale, though that could have come from being shut down so often in the past millicycle. What time Ram had spent outside of his room had been limited by his unusually short temper.

Flynn sat down beside Ram, the bed sagging a little at the extra weight. The actuary had been acting extremely odd since his return to Flynn's place. He wondered if perhaps simply the meeting with Tron had been too great of a strain on him so soon after his reboot. Regardless, all this moping around and sleeping couldn't be good for him.

The User got off the bed and shook the little program lightly. "Get up, man, you've been shut down for ages."

Ram stirred and scowled darkly. "Don't you know it's _rude_ to wake a program?" he grumbled, rolling over onto his side and covering his head with his pillow.

Flynn was momentarily taken aback by the irritable attitude of his usually cheery friend. That wasn't like Ram at all.

"Thought you might like to know that Tron dropped by to see you, but if you'd rather stay in bed, fine by me," he replied coolly. "I'll let him know you're busy."

"Tron?" The actuary blinked and sat up. "He's here?"

The User simply nodded.

Ram slipped out of bed and yawned, stretching. He still felt awful like he could use another three hundred cycles to recharge, but if Tron was here, there was no way he was going to miss that. He tugged anxiously on a stray curl and bit his lip, watching Tron almost shyly as he approached. It was odd. Ram felt vaguely like there ought to be something that should make him feel uncomfortable around his old friend, yet he couldn't place what exactly had changed since the last he'd seen him. The awkward silence stretched on.

"Oh, Tron," Flynn said suddenly. "You said that you were containing those programs. Why?"

The monitor hesitated. "I...thought perhaps you might be able to do something to help them."

Ram blinked, watching the the exchange between the two. All his functions were running much more slowly than usual and it was taking a considerable effort to follow the conversation.

"I might," the User mused to himself. "That depends on the damage code."

Tron turned his attention to Ram and nodded. "Hello, Ram."

The actuary nodded back, his movements slow and deliberate. "Hey." There was stiffness to him; the way he spoke and just the way he held himself reflected that of a much older and outdated program. It worried Tron. It seemed like Ram had aged a thousand cycles in the past millicycle and he didn't like it at all.

"Flynn, I could take you to them if you like," the monitor offered, glancing back at the User.

Flynn stirred, as though rousing himself from a deep sleep, and nodded thoughtfully. "Good idea, Tron. We'll take Ram with us. He could use a little fresh air."

Ram blinked. "What? No, that's alright. I just need more rest..."

"You've had enough rest," Flynn told him firmly. "You've been shut down almost the entire time since you've been here."

The actuary let out an annoyed huffy breath. "You can't make me go anywhere," he sulked in a tone so unlike his own that made Tron's worry increase tenfold. He hid his surprise and anxiety, however, and addressed the smaller program himself.

"Please come with us," he invited, not unkindly. He met Ram's eyes and held his gaze steadily for several nanocycles before the actuary complied.

"I...oh, alright," Ram relented.

Flynn immediately went to work upon seeing the rows and rows of shut down infected programs. Abandoning his two companions, he gently unhooked one program's disc and dived into the coding, murmuring to himself as he worked.

Tron and Ram exchanged glances and couldn't help but grin at each other, both reviving slightly as they did so. Ram's functions were beginning to speed up and he stretched a bit, looking around at the cavernous containment facilities. They didn't do much to hold his attention, however, and he glanced back at his old friend.

"Maybe you could show me more of the system?" he suggested almost shyly, twirling one of his curls absently with a finger.

The monitor thought on that for a moment before nodding. "Anon should be able to hold out a little longer without me," he decided, giving Ram a tiny smile. "We'll take the Recognizer. Just a quick tour of the Grid, okay, and then I have to get back to work."

"Sure," the smaller program agreed easily. Tron was relieved to hear him talking and acting more like himself and led the way to his Recognizer with much more cheerfulness than before.

Ram's first impression of the Recognizer was that he did not like it. He managed to keep himself quiet as Tron took control of it and gently eased them away from the containment facilities. He leaned back until he was resting against the wall and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the buzzing at the back of his head.

Ram's peculiar behavior had Tron anxious once again. Back in the old days, Ram would have been chatting the security program's ear off. He wouldn't have really said anything worth paying attention to, and honestly sometimes he could be annoying with his pointless talk. Yet now Tron oddly missed that. Maybe it was because hearing Ram talk kept him from thinking too much about things like missing Ram talk. He worried absently that perhaps the actuary had somehow found out about Rinzler. But no, Flynn had mentioned that Ram had been inside since Tron's last visit, and Ram was an open book. If he knew, Tron would know that he knew.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong with him. Ram shivered and breathed in slow, eyes fluttering open as he looked around. This was not a good place to be. He needed to get out of here now.

"Tron..." he called weakly.

The program in question was maneuvering a trickier section of the Grid with the over sized Recognizer and couldn't afford to glance back. "Mmm?"

Ram's hands scrabbled for something to hang on to in order to keep himself upright. "Tron," he repeated, a tone of urgency in his voice this time.

"Hang on, Ram."

The phrase jolted something in the actuary's memory. He put his hands to his temples, closing his eyes and breathing hard. He hated Recognizers because...because...that's where he'd derezzed...

Pain shot through his skull and he cried out. "Tron!"

The Recognizer slammed to a halt and Tron spun around just in time to see his friend crumpling. He rushed forward to catch him under the elbows and eased him down slowly.

Ram's circuits were flashing from white to yellow, a color so horrible that it made Tron's breath catch in his throat.

"No, no, no, no," he murmured feverishly, panic racing through him as he pulled the little program into his lap. Yellow circuitry meant only one thing.

Somehow, Ram had been corrupted.

He had the virus.

Ram trembled and whimpered, his body convulsing every now and again in Tron's arms. He latched on to the monitor's wrist and gripped it tightly, breath coming in harsh little gulps.

"Tron," he whispered, undisguised fear obvious in his eyes. "Help."

Tron had frozen up, unable to take the situation in. The pained whisper from Ram snapped him out of his trance and immediately his CPU began racing for some kind of a solution. There had to be something he could do before Ram was completely infected, right? Some way to stop it, at least some kind of temporary solution until Flynn could fix him properly.

Norton had said the infection took only half a millicycle to complete itself. Flynn's residence had always been carefully maintained to remain bug-free, which meant that Ram must have caught the virus somewhere else in the system. Yet the User had said that his new ward had stayed inside since Tron's visit. This was where things stopped making logical sense. It had been over a full millicycle since Tron's last visit.

Flynn had said all Ram had been doing was sleeping...

That was it! The actuary had been delaying his own infection through shutting down!

"Ram, I need you to listen to me," Tron said in a calm, firm voice that somehow didn't reflect his inner turmoil in the slightest. The whimpering program fell silent and nodded, his grip on Tron's wrist tightening. "You need to shut down, Ram."

Ram's eyes widened. "B-but-"

"No buts. That's for Users," the monitor retorted, quoting something he'd heard Flynn say cycles ago. "Do it." In a gentler voice he added, "you'll be alright, Ram. Flynn and I will figure something out. It'll be okay."

Ram swallowed, his circuits flashing dangerously. "I-I..." he began, but a wave of pain washed over him and he shuddered violently. He squeezed his friend's wrist once, and abruptly went limp, his circuits going dark.

Tron gazed sightlessly at the little program in his arms, trying to calm the storm inside him. Viruses had never been cured before. What made him think that Flynn would be able to do it this time? What if he'd just lost his best friend? Again?

The thought was so horrible that he trembled and hugged Ram's limp form close. Hesitant fingers gently stroked loose brown curls, as though reassuring himself through touch that he would be able to find some way to cure his friend. This would keep the virus from spreading, at least for now, but as to a permanent fix, he wasn't sure that was attainable.

No, no, he couldn't let himself think like that. Flynn could do it. Ram had believed so strongly in the Users. While Tron's faith had been shaken, he knew it would do no good dwelling on the what-ifs. He had to take Ram back to Flynn and _pray_ that there was something the User could do.

Tron wasn't sure what he would do with himself if he lost Ram again.


	5. Chapter 5

Tron stumbled back into the containment facility, thanking the Users that Ram was so small and light. It was hardly difficult to carry the shut down actuary over his shoulder. He did his best not to think, instead focusing on the task at hand. Get Ram to Flynn and hope for a miracle. It wasn't the best plan, but it was something to concentrate on. He readjusted the program on his shoulder and pressed forward.

Flynn was exactly where the two had left him, crouched over a limp program with a disc in his hands. He didn't move when Tron approached, all his attention fixed instead on identifying and solving the damage that the virus had caused.

"This is gonna take some time," he murmured to himself, scrolling through the damage code once more. "The damage is pretty extensive...I'm going to have to rewrite certain sections of it."

Tron gently eased Ram down with a muffled grunt. "Flynn, there's something more important you need to work on first," he said quietly, crouching down beside his friend and brushing back his curls affectionately.

After a long pause, Flynn finally glanced up from his work. Tron hardly noticed. He'd pulled Ram into his arms again and buried his head in the other's curls, breathing in slowly and evenly. He was trying so hard to stay calm, to stay relaxed, but Ram was his best friend. Ram relied on him, depended on him. He needed Tron to protect and save him. But now how could he?

Flynn's gentle hands pried him away from the little actuary and Tron moved away, nodding tightly. He swallowed and got to his feet. The User knelt beside Ram and unhooked his disc, glancing up at Tron.

"I'll do what I can," Flynn promised. "He's not completely corrupted like the others."

Tron nodded wearily and slumped down against the wall. All the effort he'd been putting out in the past millicycle was hitting him hard, and the emotional stress of Ram's condition wasn't exactly helping. Yet still there was work to be done.

"No rest for the wicked," he muttered, picking up another of Flynn's User quotes.

With a heavy sigh, the security program forced himself to stand up. Anon would be waiting for him and they could always get more work done together rather than separately.

Flynn glanced up from his work as Tron made to leave. "You should get some rest, Tron. You've been working too much and it's going to take some time to get Ram back. You won't be missing anything."

"No, I've got work," Tron murmured tiredly. "I've got a virus to hunt down."

The User opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Norton, who entered the room in a great state of excitement.

"We've found it," he gushed. "It's coming from the data streams. All the infected programs have accessed the system files in the past twelve millicycles. We've already pinpointed the exact location of the particle that's been causing all the trouble, and there's several monitors already on their way to shut it down. It's over, Tron."

Tron was far too emotionally exhausted to react the way he ought to at hearing the news. Instead he simply nodded. "Good. That's...that's good." There was a short pause and he realized perhaps he should say more. "Great job, Norton," he tacked on hastily.

Norton nodded and crouched down, following Tron's eyes to the shut down program and continuing in a quieter voice. "Don't worry about overseeing the rest of this," he said gently. "We can handle it if you'd rather sit it out."

There was a long pause before the older monitor looked up. "I think I ought to," he replied softly. "I need to make sure Ram's going to be alright."

"Are _you_ alright?"

Tron fell silent and looked away. When it became obvious that no reply was forthcoming, Norton straightened up, stretching.

"Well, I'll tell you, I'm certainly looking forward to shutting down for a few millicycles," he chuckled to himself. "I'd suggest you do the same. Take care of yourself, Tron."

"Oh. Yes. You too," came the slightly delayed response. The older monitor's eyes were back on Ram, and he hardly even noticed when Norton left. Everything was starting to blur slightly at the edges and he knew it wouldn't be long before his power drained completely. Maybe the other program had a point; a quick nap couldn't hurt, right?

Tron's eyes slipped closed and he shut down, his head drooping onto his chest.

He was hardly out for long. Barely half a millicycle later Tron rebooted at a meager sixty percent output. It wasn't much, but he was getting used to running on low energy, and it was better than before. He yawned and stretched, blinking a few times as the world came back into focus.

A whirl of white and a cheerful hummed melody announced the arrival of a visitor. Arms laden with several bottles of premade spiked energy, the program known as Castor bustled inside, swaying slightly. His pale eyes brightened as they focused in on Flynn and a broad grin split his face.

"I _believe_ you called for me?" he asked in a singsong voice.

Flynn chuckled and got to his feet, gently easing the bottles from Castor's arms and setting them down. "Good to see you too, Zuse. It seems you've already gotten started without us."

Tron scowled darkly and got to his feet, casting the other program a glare more suited to something Rinzler would wear beneath his helmet. "You invited _him_?" he shot at Flynn in disbelief. "This program is a coward and a traitor. Why did you even _rewrite_ him?"

Castor's smile tightened as his eyes grew cold. "Because I'm the best barkeep in the entire Grid," he replied snarkily.

The Creator gave Castor a you're-really-not-helping-shut-up look before turning back to address his old friend. "Everyone deserves second chances, Tron," he said simply, giving him a meaningful glance.

Tron caught Flynn's double meaning and fell into a sulky silence. Of course he would bring that up.

"We're on the same side, Tron," Castor remarked brightly. "I'm wearing the blue circuitry now, see?" He held his arms out, showing off the tiny slivers of blue running down his sleek white robes.

"You haven't _earned_ that, Castor," Tron shot back.

"It's Zuse now," the other program corrected him. "And have you earned _yours_?"

In a flash, the monitor had Zuse pinned against the wall, his activated disc out and pressed against the pale flesh of his neck. Tron's eyes were cold and merciless as a harsh raw growl emenated from the back of his throat.

"I helped build the very _ground_ you stand on. I have overseen and protected the Grid to the best of my ability and if you test me again I promise I will _end_ you," he spat menacingly.

"Tron!" Flynn called sharply. "That's enough."

No one moved for a nanocycle until finally Tron backed off and tucked his disc away. Zuse swallowed, still feeling the sharp edge at his throat. He exhaled and passed a hand over his eyes. Point duly noted, Tron.

"Now, we're all tired, which is actually why I asked Zuse to come here," Flynn continued, raising an eyebrow at the overdramatic program.

"Ah. Of course," Zuse replied a little shakily, straightening up and smiling tightly. Tron's sudden attack had sobered him up considerably. "Flynn, if I could have some place to mix and store drinks? I've got several more bottles that should be brought in."

"Never were one to travel light," the User said with a small chuckle. He reached back for a data pad and entered the correct coding quickly. After a moment, he looked over to the far corner of the room expectantly. Tron and Zuse followed his gaze, waiting.

Pixel by pixel the countertop bar began to rezz, complete with several bar stools. Tron was hardly impressed; he'd watched Flynn build and rebuild his digital home and was familiar with the process. He was close to apathetic to everything at this point to begin with, so he didn't even feel the usual flicker of awe.

Zuse, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He picked up his assortment of bottles and stashed them with a near inaudible squeak of happiness. Flynn chuckled in amusement and stepped forward to rap the bar lightly with his knuckles.

"Get on it, man. Something for every active program in here, understand? And me," he added as an afterthought.

"At your service!" replied Zuse, offering a flamboyant bow.

Tron sank back down against the wall again, gazing at Ram's still form. His disc was resting on the ground beside him, and for one insane moment he considered picking it up. For Ram to have caught the virus, he must've accessed the system files at some point. Flynn had mentioned that the actuary had indeed left just after Tron had, and had acted oddly upon his return. His abnormal behavior more recently could, of course, be credited to the virus. But maybe there was more to it than that. Tron couldn't help but calculate that there was a fair chance that the information he'd discovered had contributed to his decline. It was possible that maybe, just maybe, Ram had learned the agonizing truth of Tron's past. If he just checked his disc...

A whole nanocycle later, the monitor rejected the thought. No, Ram would surely have acted differently towards him if he knew. It would have been obvious, particularly to Tron, who knew the little program better than anyone, excluding Ram's User, of course.

Which brought up a whole new slough of thoughts to consider. Had Ram's User given up on him, or had he been fruitlessly attempting to contact his derezzed program all these cycles? Or was Flynn his User now since he'd rewritten him?

Too many questions with too few answers, and they didn't even pertain directly to Tron. With a rueful smile, the monitor realized that with the return of his best friend had come the return of his former sentimentality.

"Tron? Care for a drink?"

Tron blinked up at the white-clad program, who was currently waving a glass of energy at him a slightly apologetic smile.

"No, thank you," Tron murmured in reply.

Zuse dropped down to the monitor's level and nudged the glass into his hands. "Oh, believe me," he said brightly, pale eyes sparkling. "You _need_ this."

With a twitch of his lips that could have been a smile, the exhausted program let his fingers close around the proffered drink and took a sip.

_User_, why had he never let Zuse mix him something before? The energy surged pleasantly through him, causing his circuits to illuminate briefly and his eyes widened in surprise. He gulped the rest of it down greedily, relishing in the sudden, delicious power.

Zuse's smile widened. "I don't suppose you've ever had the pleasure of enjoying one of my _famous_ drinks, have you?"

"I...can't say that I have," Tron admitted, surprising himself with a returning smile.

"Come. I'll mix you another."


	6. Chapter 6

((A/N: Sorry it's been taking me so long to get this up! I've been suuuper busy with end of the semester and all. And my mental breakdowns all over the place have really not been helping my writing. So I hope this chapter isn't like...a big letdown. Sorry.))

He hunched over a data pad, analyzing the lines of coding that filled the screen. All his attention was focused on his work as he readjusted a few digits here and there. It was absolutely essential that everything be perfect before he entered the data. Once it had been completed, there was no taking it back. Not this time.

After a considerable amount of time, he finally nodded, pleased with his work. This time he would not—he _could_ not—fail. What he'd written was free from his previous mistakes. It would work. He'd reviewed the data time and time again, altering and adjusting where it was required. This time, he assured himself, there would be no regrets.

He inhaled deeply, anticipating the moment, and selected enter.

Slowly, bit by bit, data cube by data cube, the outline of a tall imposing figure began to form at his feet. He watched patiently, legs crossed Indian style as he focused on his own slow, even breathing. He was utterly calm, completely unmoving, hands relaxed on his knees. His eyes stayed fixed on the shape steadily forming before him even as he became one with his surroundings. The pulse of the digital world flowed through him, absorbed him, and he allowed his mind to float beyond his own being.

It was important to be prepared when the work was complete. He needed to be relaxed and focused. This was not going to be easy and he needed the extra support and calm that came from meditation. He watched quietly as the digital copy of his 30-year-old self materialized before him, hoping with all his heart that when those darkened circuits lit up, they wouldn't take on the sickly yellow of earlier cycles.

The rewriting process finished, and he gazed down at his creation with eyes saddened with age. After an eternity of stillness, he reached out to touch the other's arm lightly, sending a jolt of energy through his fingertips to waken the still figure.

Indescribable relief washed over him as the circuits lining the black jumpsuit illuminated bluish-white. The program blinked awake, slowly allowing himself to reboot. His gloved fingers twitched, curling into fists and relaxing again. He breathed, chest rising and falling steadily. And finally, with something of an effort, he sat up.

His dark, intelligent eyes found his Creator almost instantly. "Flynn."

"Clu," came the soft reply.

"You brought me back," Clu stated, his tone almost reverent. His gaze didn't waver in the slightest.

Flynn nodded, keeping eye contact. "Everyone deserves a second chance."

"And you rewrote me. I've been altered."

"Naturally. I have to be able to trust my admin, don't I?" The slightest of smiles crossed the older man's face.

The program's eyes widened in surprise. "You intend to restore me to my previous designation? I don't understand. I failed you before, Flynn."

"No, Clu. _I _failed _you_," Flynn replied wearily, suddenly looking older than he ever had before.

Clu opened his mouth to argue, to point out that the fault had been in him the whole time, but Flynn cut him off.

"I was blinded by my ambition when I programmed you. I didn't stop for an instant to think about what I was doing. I wanted the whole world, and I wanted to show them exactly what I could do. I didn't think that perhaps my worst traits would be so strong in you, or that I ought to give you a little more leeway as far aw learning was concerned. I never thought I would change, or that anything could change without my consent, so I didn't bother making sure you could grow too." The User paused, and Clu was surprised to see beads of moisture glistening in the old man's eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Clu," Flynn continued softly, his voice slightly choked. "I'm so sorry everything turned out the way it did, and I'm so sorry that it was my faults that destroyed you. You're my Frankenstein's monster. I created you, and if I had just done things differently, we could have accomplished amazing things together."

A tear slid down his cheek and into his silvered beard, yet still he smiled sadly.

A powerful emotion rose in Clu's chest and he swallowed, nodding tightly. He understood now. He could see what he had to do, what he ought to say. "We _did_ do amazing things together," he said in a firm yet quiet voice. "We built the Grid." He paused for a moment, then continued.

"You might have programmed some negative characteristics into me, Flynn, but I still had a choice. I chose to go against your orders because I thought you must not have understood." He hesitated. "But I was _wrong_ You understood far better than I. I should have made the choice to follow you and trust in your leadership."

Flynn sighed. "That wasn't in your nature, or mine. I could have prevented that if I'd only had the foresight..." He trailed off and shook his head, his grizzled mane whipping back and forth. "But it'll be different this time. We both know what we did wrong before, and now we can make up for that and do things even better." He clapped the program on the shoulders and smiled the best he could manage. "Right?"

Clu nodded determinedly. "Of course. Together we can bring back the Grid's former glory."

"That's _exactly_ what I wanna hear, man!" the User exclaimed, his soft smile morphing into a broad grin. "We're gonna change the world."

"Just like old times," his double replied proudly, feeling a glimmer of hope. He could redeem himself. He could repair his past mistakes and more. His smile grew to match Flynn's and he nodded again. He'd been given his second chance, and he was not going to waste it.

Tron sat quietly outside of Ram's bedroom door, turning his disc over absently in his hands. Although he was exhausted, he didn't dare sleep. He was on duty, and shutting down on duty was unacceptable. He had Ram to guard and protect while Flynn was busy.

But how did one protect someone from their fears?

Since Flynn had repaired Ram, the actuarial program had been almost as good as new during the day. Some of it was faked. That was clear to Tron, who knew him better than anyone, but for the most part, Ram had been recovering remarkably well. He was all smiles again, despite the fact that the virus had chewed away chunks of his memory that Flynn had not been able to replace. But when he went into sleep mode, or attempted to, that's when the true extent of the damage showed.

Sure enough, the telltale cry of the frightened actuary pierced through the stifling silence like a gunshot. Tron pushed himself to his feet swiftly and swept inside the bedroom. Ram was trapped in twisted bedsheets and struggling violently, letting out little squeaks and whimpers of terror as he fought through a nightmare. Tron pinned him down by his shoulders, holding him still.

"Ram, wake up," he said firmly, empathy for Ram's pain twisting agonizingly in his gut. "You're okay. Everything is okay."

Ram's eyes shot open, wide with panic. His hands flew up to grip Tron by the elbows tightly as he breathed in fast and shallow.

"That's it," Tron soothed gently. "I'm here. Everything is alright. You're safe, I promise." He lifted a hand to pet Ram's mussed curls affectionately.

The actuary relaxed visibly at his friend's touch, his eyes fluttering closed again. His grip slacked, his breath slowing as he focused in on the familiar voice and tone. Tron was here. He was safe. After a moment he sat up and hugged the monitor tightly, savoring the feel of comfort and protection that seemed to emanate from him. Tron blinked in some surprise and couldn't help but smile faintly as he wrapped his arms around the smaller program.

"Shhh," he said quietly, reassuring him. "I'm here, Ram. I'll protect you. Nothing will hurt you while I'm around."

A moment after he spoke the words, he realized he was making a promise he had already failed to keep. He hadn't been there to save Ram from deresolution. He hadn't protected him from the horrors of infection. And when the time came that he would have to tell his friend what he'd done, he knew he would be hurting Ram.

He breathed unevenly, his arms tightening around Ram. He let his head fall and buried his face in those brown curls, wishing with every fiber of his being that he could take the pain away and be sure Ram never had to hurt again. Tron was strong; he'd always been that way. He could deal with it. But Ram? Despite the facade that he sometimes wore, he was delicate. He was never meant for the life of a fighter, yet he'd been forced into it in the cycles of the old Encom system. Every program the actuary had had to derezz in favor of his own life, Ram felt it like a disc to his own CPU. It wore on him, changed him, and the monitor worried that even though his days of fighting were over, the ghost of it would destroy him.

"Tron?" Ram's voice was a hesitant, breathless squeak. "You're making it hard to breathe."

Tron instantly loosened his grip. "Sorry," he apologized automatically.

The actuarial program shook his head, long nose brushing against Tron's chest. "Are you okay?"

The monitor couldn't help but laugh quietly. "Typical Ram. You have nightmares and ask if I am okay."

"Well are you?" Ram watched him with his big sad eyes.

Tron chose not to answer, instead releasing his little friend and untangling him gently from the sheets. "You should get more sleep," he murmured distractedly.

"No."

The abrupt answer took the security program by surprise and he stared."What?"

Ram crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly and gazed back evenly. "No. Too many nightmares and memories. I can't. And every time I sleep you sacrifice the time you ought to be shut down for...well...I'm not even sure _what_, but I know you don't sleep, and that you haven't really gotten in a good downcycle since I got infected."

So Ram _had_ noticed. He thought he'd been getting away with it, but apparently not. He sat down on the bed beside his friend, fighting back the random and inexplicable urge to smile. "I've been working."

"How foolish do you calculate I am? You haven't been working. You've just been watching me. But I'm not the one that needs taking care of, Tron."

Tron sighed. "You are not foolish, Ram. I don't think that. Being infected is a traumatic experience and as your friend I wanted to ensure that you would be alright."

A sarcastic smile quirked the corners of Ram's lips upwards. "Flynn told you many times that I would be fine."

The monitor had no answer for that. Running on low energy made him a little testy and he was starting to lose patience. Ram seemed to pick up on that and dropped it, sighing a little.

"I can make you a deal," the actuary suggested hopefully. "I'll shut down if you do."

Tron considered for a moment. "But then there will be no one keeping guard."

"Is that really necessary? Flynn said his place was already very reinforced and protected, even if there was any kind of threat to the Grid, which there isn't right now, as far as I know," Ram pointed out.

The monitor sighed, too tired to keep arguing. "It seems I have no choice," he said slowly, getting to his feet.

"You can stay in here," the smaller program said quickly, catching Tron by the elbow. "I mean...Flynn mentioned once it might keep my nightmares away if...someone was...with me." He ducked his head in some embarrassment, trying to hide behind his curls.

That was the last response Tron could have possibly anticipated. He blinked a little in surprise, watching his suddenly shy friend blankly.

"I mean...I just thought it...might be nice...for us." Ram twisted the sheets between his hands nervously. "There's plenty of room and...I think we both sort of...need it. Sleep, I mean."

Tron didn't need to consider it for long. He really did need the sleep.

"Alright," he replied agreeably, after a short pause. "Move over."


	7. Chapter 7

((A/N: Hey guys, I love your enthusiasm, but I am updating as quickly as I can. Sending me reviews that just say "update soon" are both stressful and not changing anything. I have things in my life that I have to do besides just writing fanfic all day. I also try to make sure the stuff I post to here is edited well before I submit it. So here. I know it took a little longer, but this is a longer chapter than I usually give you by about 2 pages. Also as a side note. I originally had the text conversations in courier, which looked _so _much better, but couldn't keep that for ffn. Okay, I'm done here.))

By the time Flynn and Clu arrived, all was silent in Ram's room. The User first ensured that the newly rerezzed program was settled before going to check on the other. Tron had abandoned his post just outside the actuary's door, which either meant he'd left, or he was inside. Flynn gently nudged the door open and peered in.

The sheets were balled up in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the bed, revealing that the two programs had managed to squeeze in together. They were both fast asleep, Ram curled up on Tron's chest with his head nuzzled comfortably in the security program's collarbone. One hand rested at Tron's side, the other scrunched up by his face. Tron was flat on his back, an arm thrown protectively over the smaller program and his head tucked against those fluffy brown curls.

Flynn smiled softly and shut the door behind him, amused at the sight of the two curled so comfortably around each other. In the User world, of course, this scene would have been perceived very differently, but little Ram could hardly be expected to know any better and Tron was performing his duties as a friend.

But perhaps there was more to it. The thought struck Flynn as he sat down on the couch with a fresh data pad. The two had always been remarkably close as far as he had observed in his time with them. They almost seemed to understand each other on a level deeper than friendship, and Tron had been very greatly affected when learning of his friend's death. Then, of course, there was the plain and simple truth that each had exhibited that he cared more for the other than for himself. Flynn supposed it wouldn't be entirely implausible for them to be more than just friends. Then again, he reflected, if that was the case, he highly doubted they were even aware of it.

Allowing these thoughts to be stored away for another time, he stretched out the data pad to a larger size and set it comfortably on his lap. It was easy enough for him to pull up Alan's contact information. He'd been texting his old friend quite often lately, and the number was simple compared to Grid code. He quickly formulated a message and sent it.

_Alan. Make sure Roy attends the gala. I've got a surprise for you two._

The data pad pinged as Alan's response came through.

_You mean besides you being alive?_

Flynn chuckled. _It's going to be big, man. Don't let him miss it._

The response came fairly quickly. That was one good thing about the discrepancy between time in the digital and real worlds. Texting was always fast and easy.

_He'll be there. He's on the board now, after all. I hope you aren't planning anything crazy. The media's going to have a field day as is. You realize you've been declared legally dead for over a decade?_

Flynn could practically hear Alan's voice as he read the reply and nodded to himself.

_This whole charade is crazy. Don't worry, I'm already quite aware I'll need blood work done to prove that I really am Kevin Flynn._

The replies were coming almost as quickly as he sent them now.

_Have you thought of what you're going to say about where you've been? They'll never believe you if you tell them the truth._

_Relax, man. I've got it all under control. Besides, wasn't all of this your idea? I'm surprised you haven't wrote my speech yet._ Flynn texted quickly.

_Very funny, Flynn. This is all Sam's idea. And I think you're big enough to clean up your own messes now._

Sam's idea? That wasn't how he put it. Flynn smiled. If he were to pin this ludicrous scheme on anyone, he would bet it was Quorra.

_I got this, Alan._

_I know. That's what worries me._

_Your confidence is inspiring. Well hey, man, I gotta go get a hold of Sam and Quorra. I'll talk to you later._

_Take care of yourself, Flynn._

Flynn smiled to himself and shook his head. It was going to be great to see his old friend face-to-face again. It was a reunion that had been put off for far too long.

He switched the recipient of his texts to Sam and entered a fresh message.

_We need to talk about restructuring the Grid and get that done quickly. Bring Quorra and come here as soon as you can._

There was a moment's pause before Sam's reply came through.

_Quorra's making dinner. Why don't you come here?_

Flynn hesitated. That was a tempting offer, but he would hate for Tron and Ram to come across Clu without Flynn to cool the tensions that would surely arise. He sighed.

_Sorry kiddo, no can do. Another time, alright? I promise. I just can't afford to leave right now. There's too much going on._

He waited patiently for a reply, sighing. He knew he was letting Sam down, but there was nothing else for it. He could reschedule dinner with the kids, but the moment when everyone met Clu could not be postponed, and it was very important that everyone understood he was no longer the same program.

Finally the data pad pinged and he glanced down at Sam's reply.

_We'll head over after dinner._

_Thanks, Sam. See you later._

"I'm sure he's got things he has to deal with there, Sam," said Quorra patiently, fluttering around the meager substitute for a kitchen as she looked for something to make for dinner.

Sam sighed, watching her from where he was leaning against the counter. "I know," he replied, a hint of frustration in his tone. "I just wish he spent a little more time with us than with the Grid. He hasn't left it once since the Portal opened. He's made sure its accessible from both sides now, so it isn't like he's trapped."

Quorra paused, gazing at the User thoughtfully. "Maybe he's afraid of what he'll find," she suggested softly. "It's been a thousand cycles since he's been outside. Maybe he just doesn't know what to expect, or what it will look like."

"I told him all about it when we were on the Solar Sailer, and you told him about it too," he pointed out. "He has an idea of what it's like."

"Yes, but that's completely different from seeing it himself. Take me for example," she continued. "I read books, I heard a thousand stories, but that couldn't possibly have prepared me for actually _being _out here."

She stopped her searching and instead stood before Sam. Her pale eyes searched his and she sighed, leaning in to rest her head against his chest. Almost instinctively, Sam's arms wrapped loosely around her waist.

"How's dinner working out?" he asked with a slight smirk.

Quorra snickered. "I don't know why you told your father I was making something. There's nothing _to_ make."

"That would be the third time this week that we've ordered pizza."

"So order Chinese, then."

Sam chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "Cute."

Satisfied that Sam was out of his dark mood, Quorra reached around and into his back pocket for his phone. He raised an eyebrow at her mischievous smirk.

"Keep that up and we won't be making it to my dad's place tonight," he teased, squeezing her hips.

She yelped and danced out of his arms, giggling. "Patience, Sam Flynn," she shot back, repeating a phrase from the past and smirking broadly. Sam laughed as she flopped onto the couch with his phone and scrolled down the contact list.

"Let's see, pizza, Chinese, Thai...hey, why don't we call up Alan?" she suggested.

"And steal his food? Sure, why not."

"It's not _stealing_, it's _sharing_."

Sam sank down beside her and looked over her shoulder. "Are you even hungry? We could just eat when we get back."

Quorra shrugged and glanced over at him. "Alright. Let's go."

Ram woke slowly, yawning as he steadily returned to consciousness. He was curled up on his friend's chest, his own body moving ever so slightly with the rise and fall of the monitor's chest from his even breathing. Tron's warm arm was wrapped loosely around him and he sighed happily, snuggling in more against the monitor.

There was a yawn from beneath him, and Tron's arm tightened for a moment before loosening again.

"Ram?" Tron mumbled sleepily against his friend's curls. "Are you awake?"

"Mmm-hmm," replied the actuary lazily, eyes blinking open. "'N no nightmares this time," he realized after a moment. He nuzzled Tron's collarbone. "Thanks."

The monitor squirmed a little. "That tickles."

Ram grinned. "What, this?" He nuzzled his friend more this time.

"Ram!" Tron protested, laughing.

A mischievous smile lit up the actuarial program's face and he sat up, reaching over to tickle his friend. Tron, moving quickly, snatched Ram's wrists and rolled the two of them over until the smaller program was pinned beneath his body weight.

"Wh—hey!" Ram complained, struggling pointlessly. "Not fair!"

The monitor sat up, keeping his weight planted firmly on Ram's legs to keep him down.

"You started it," he pointed out, grinning. "You should have known you couldn't win this."

The actuary huffed in mild annoyance. "You're just jealous."

Tron blinked in surprise. "Of what?"

"This!"

Ram took advantage of Tron's momentary confusion and used his upper body strength to roll off the bed, taking his friend with him. The monitor grunted as he hit the ground and blinked a few times. Now Ram was once again on top, smirking down at Tron from his comfortable perch on his chest.

"Who's winning now?" he asked smugly.

Tron couldn't help but laugh. "Very good, Ram. But is it good enough?"

In one quick motion, the older of the two had catapulted the little program off his chest and pinned him down securely this time, gloved fingers splayed out on Ram's chest and his knees pressing against the other's thighs. Ram yelped in surprise and mild pain, peering past distended brown curls at Tron.

"Ow, ow, ow, Tron, that hurts," he whined, wincing a little. "Your knees are not comfortable."

Tron shifted his position, legs falling to either side of Ram's torso. "Sorry," he apologized. "Are you alright?"

"Yep. Just a little squished. _User_, Tron, you're heavy!"

The monitor scowled. "It's the armor," he informed his friend.

Ram stuck his tongue out. "Suuuure."

That was quite enough of that attitude. Fingers lined with blue circuitry danced down Ram's ribcage to tickle his sides.

"Nooooooo Tron, stooooooop!" Ram squealed between giggles, squirming wildly.

The security program laughed, feeling happier than he'd been in a long time. Locks of dark hair fell past his face as he tickled his little friend even more. Hands ran lightly up his sides, across his collarbone, and brushed across his neck.

"Help help help stooooop!" the actuary cried, laughing uncontrollably. "I give!"

Tron laughed and rolled off him to lay beside him. Ram sighed happily, his giggles eventually giving way to little breathless gasps.

"I missed you," Tron said suddenly, rolling onto his side and watching the smaller program fondly.

Ram grinned. "I would have missed me too," he said cheekily.

The security program rolled his eyes. "I try to say something nice..."

The two both jumped in surprise as the door burst open, revealing a pink-cheeked and slightly out of breath Quorra.

"When did you get here?" Ram asked in surprise.

"Oh, just now, but you had better hear it!" she said excitedly. "Sam and Flynn are having a Grid-wide conference. It's going to be huge."

Tron and Ram glanced at each other before grinning back at the ISO. "Alright," they replied in unison.

The stadium regularly used for lightcycle games had been modified ever so slightly to allow a walkway and a podium in the middle at the same level as the rows and rows of stands. Beside the podium stood the only two Users to ever enter the Grid. Quorra stood between them, surveying the sea of programs with trepidation. She didn't do well with crowds. They made her nervous and uncomfortable. She hadn't interacted with large groups of people since the Purge, and during her exile with Flynn, they had avoided others like the Abraxas virus. She was still trying to adjust to the fact that she was safe here.

She spotted Zuse in the crowd fairly easily. There was only one program that dressed that flamboyantly. Quorra was still torn on how she felt about him. She had once called him her best friend and greeted him with a kiss. She had trusted him with Sam, and he had betrayed them all. Betrayed her. That had hurt more than she could have anticipated. Things were a little different now, though, she knew. While she hadn't actually had a chance to talk to him herself yet, Flynn told her he was really working on turning things around. He'd dropped the name of Castor entirely and wore some blue circuitry quite proudly, as a matter of fact.

"Everything okay, Q?"

Quorra blinked and glanced over to see Flynn watching her with concern. She smiled tightly and nodded, knowing as she did so that he could see right through it. "I don't like the crowds much," she admitted.

Flynn nodded in understanding. She didn't have to explain any more than that. Heaven knew she'd been through far too much. He put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed lightly. "Then let's get this over with as quickly as we can."

With one last squeeze, he released her again and stepped forward to the podium. A gradual hush fell amongst the many programs until it was absolutely silent. Flynn smiled at the assorted crowd of blue, white, and orange. They were his creations, his children, and he loved them all.

"Greetings, Programs!" he called. A responding roar rose from the audience and the User's smile grew. "Thank you all for coming here. This may end up being the most important meeting we've ever had, and I'll tell you why." He paused, and all was completely still as the programs waited in anticipation of his next words. "Because now, my friends, now is the time for us to begin the long and arduous journey back to restoring the Grid to its former glory, and even beyond that!"

There was silence for a moment before a wave of applause broke out. Quorra winced slightly at the noise and shrank against Sam, who wrapped an arm around her hips and pulled her a little closer.

Flynn raised a hand and the noise died down. "With a new Grid comes a new way of life. My son, Sam, and the ISO, Quorra," he gestured their direction, "are working very hard in the User world in order to eventually establish a peaceful union between all of us. In the near future, programs and Users will be able to freely utilize the Portal to access both worlds." There was more applause. Flynn waited patiently for it to subside before going on.

"With a new Grid, also, comes a new structure of leadership. In just a moment, Sam is going to address you, and I would like you to treat him with all the same respect you have shown me. Allow me to remind you that it was he that ultimately liberated the Grid from tyranny and restored free will among you. Sam Flynn, everyone."

Flynn stepped down and grinned at Sam,who reluctantly released Quorra. He gave her a small, reassuring smile before approaching the podium. Sam swallowed back some nervousness and looked over his audience, wondering vaguely how many of these programs wanted him dead.

He hesitated, trying to organize his thoughts. "In my world, I live in a country that, uh, fought really hard to get to where they are now. They faced down some pretty tough tyrants and rebelled, a lot, but in the end, came up with this really good government." There was some murmuring in the crowd, but Sam pressed on.

"Basically we have someone that oversees everything, called the president, and he's the guy in charge. He okays everything, more or less, and he makes all of the big decisions. So he's like an admin," Sam explained. "But he's not the only one that runs stuff. He has advisors, and then there's Congress. In this Congress, there are two separate bodies, the Senate and the House of Representatives. Now, they both have slightly different responsibilities, but the main duties of Congress are to respect the views and opinions of all the people that live in a specific area and to watchdog the president, or the admin, to make sure he doesn't have too much power. Before the admin can make any major decisions, he has to run it past Congress, and they vote on it. If a two-thirds majority approves the decision, then the admin can go ahead and carry it out."

The noises coming from the audience were positive now, and Sam smiled slightly. "So my thought," he continued, "was to establish a sort of Congress in the Grid. We could establish borders and divide it into regions, then hold elections for congressmen in those areas." A wave of applause swept the stadium, growing steadily louder until it was deafening. Flynn went to stand beside his son and threw an arm around his shoulders, grinning broadly.

"So you like his idea, huh?" he called over the noise. A roar of approval came up from the crowd. The User put his hand up and they gradually quieted.

"Now I'm assuming you'd like to meet your new admin." There was another roar and Flynn smiled. Sam and Quorra exchanged confused looks. In all their discussions about this moment, Flynn had never said a word about introducing an admin at this time, or even that he'd decided on one.

"Alright," Flynn agreed. "Come on out, then."

A sudden hush fell over the crowd as the program stepped out on the walkway. The circuitry color had changed, but the figure was still impossibly familiar. Quorra went even paler than usual and let out a frightened little gasp as he approached, stepping back a few paces quickly. Sam gaped, and a low hiss swept the stadium.

Yet despite it all, Flynn just smiled encouragingly as Clu, despised tyrant of the Grid, strode out to greet his Creator at the podium. Sam stepped away from his father to comfort a trembling and pale Quorra even as he shot a look of mixed dislike and confusion at Clu.

"This can't be happening, how is this happening?" Quorra whispered frantically, latching on to Sam's arm.

"I know what you're thinking," Flynn began, putting an arm around the uncharacteristically nervous Clu beside him. "But this isn't the same Clu. He's already proved to me that he is an entirely different program with a strong desire to step in the right direction. As a safety precaution, however, until a Congress is elected, I am assigning all of the security programs to serve to that extent if it is necessary."

He paused for a moment. "Clu will not be speaking today. I'll let you have a little time to process what has already been said today. I want you all to know that I love each and every one of you, and because of that, I am giving everyone that needs it a second chance. Please, do not take that opportunity away from him. Remember that I would do the same for you. What he does with this chance is his decision, and there will be good or bad consequences for his choices." His voice grew louder and stronger. "I want you to know that I _will not_ allow what happened before to happen again. I _will not_ let you down! All I ask is for you to trust me."

He paused again and looked around at the silent stadium, surveying them with a warm, fatherly smile. "That is all I ask. Thank you for your time."

And with that, he swept away from the utter confusion he had created with Clu, Sam, and Quorra trailing absently behind him.


	8. Chapter 8

Neither Tron nor Ram had particularly fond memories of the lightcycle stadium, so they chose instead to listen to the message via the information channels that were streaming throughout the Grid and accessible at any major location. Luckily Flynn's place had access to any channel, so it wasn't difficult to find what they were looking for. The two sat side by side on the couch and listened quietly as the broadcast went on.

"_So my thought was to establish a sort of Congress in the Grid_," Sam's voice intoned. A slight frown creased Ram's face and he leaned over to Tron.

"He wants to set up a User government here? But we're just programs. How can that work?" he worried.

Tron glanced over at his little friend briefly before hushing him. Flynn was introducing the admin and he had stiffened in anticipation.

The broadcast went utterly silent, and for a moment Tron wondered if somehow it had been disconnected, but then the name he had been dreading fell from Flynn's lips.

_Clu._

He flew to his feet and quickly shut the transmission off, pacing back and forth. He couldn't hear any more. He didn't want to hear Flynn's explanations. Flynn had always defended Clu, even at the end, when it was obvious that he had other plans. Clu was his first program, and as such he got certain privileges no other program would get. The User would always be blind as far as his precious admin was concerned. He loved him too much.

Ram blinked and watched in some concern as a low rumbling sound issued from the monitor. Something had set him on edge. That name. Clu. It sounded vaguely familiar, like an old friend, but that was impossible. Ram and Tron were the only ones from the old system, Flynn had said so.

"Tron?" he asked hesitantly after a few nanocycles. "Is everything alright?"

Tron ignored him, still pacing. After a few more laps around the room, he finally stopped and seized Ram under the arm, yanking him upright. "Come on," he growled.

"Wh-Tron!" Ram cried helplessly. "Where are we going? I don't understand."

The monitor pulled the actuary after him, his grip almost painfully tight. He spared no mercy as he dragged him roughly outside and onto the Outlands. A spare baton was tossed at Ram even as he unhooked his own from his thigh.

"Follow," he ordered sharply. "We're going to my place. You will be safe there."

"Safe?" Ram echoed blankly, but Tron was already rezzing his cycle, ignoring his friend. Ram sighed and followed suit, launching himself forward as he activated his baton. He took his familiar position to the right and slightly behind the monitor and sped on behind him, letting his eyes close briefly as the wind whipped his brown curls back.

Tron's place wasn't that far away, just on the outskirts of the city, but at about halfway there, the dark stormy clouds above them broke open and began to pour down deluges of cold rain. Ram sputtered in some confusion as the first drops hit. In the old system, such weather didn't exist. He'd never encountered this odd liquid descending from the sky.

Once Ram had realized that the system was not collapsing on his head, he had a chance to actually enjoy the rain. And truth be told? He loved it. An excited, childlike giggle escaped him and he looked up to the sky, delighted by the feel of the cool rain on his face. Tron glanced back briefly at the sound and for a moment the anger and frustration were replaced with the tiniest of smiles. What could he say? Ram was adorable.

By the time they finally arrived at Tron's place, they were both soaked to the bone and shivering slightly. The two derezzed their cycles almost in tandem, and Tron made immediately for the shelter beneath the overhang beneath the sidewalk. Ram, however, spun about in a slow circle, giggling as the thick heavy drops fell. His dark curls were plastered to his head and a stupid smile spread across his face. Tron, noting after a moment that his friend was not right behind him, rolled his eyes at Ram's behavior, fighting to keep back a smile.

"Come on, Ram," he sighed, taking him by the arm and pulling him under the eaves.

"What is it?" the actuary asked excitedly, reaching out to touch the falling moisture again.

"It's rain," the monitor explained bluntly. "Come on."

He tugged Ram along much more gently this time, guiding him rather than shoving him into the small apartment. It wasn't anything special, just an average-sized living room attached to a master bedroom. There was no need for anything else, and really Tron hardly needed a living room. His designation as a monitor kept him busy and he spent very little time at home. Now that he thought about it, this was probably the first time he'd had a guest here.

Ram looked around curiously, his eyes slowly taking in his surroundings. It had been ages since he'd seen any sort of living quarters at all, and he'd been curious as to what they looked like here. Though, in retrospect, he wasn't sure what he had expected. It was just a place to stay, after all.

He noticed after a moment that Tron was watching him with an odd expression, something like a cross between anxiety and impatience.

"It's homey," Ram said after a moment, smiling. "Small and warm and perfect."

The monitor rolled his eyes. "You say the strangest things," he murmured, though for some reason Ram's approval made him feel secretly pleased. "I want you to stay here for a while," he told the actuary firmly. "Where I can keep an eye on you until I know exactly what is going on. I trust Flynn, but he makes mistakes just as much as the rest of us, and this is plain insanity."

He ran a hand through his dark brown hair, recalling as he did so that the two were both still rather soaked from the rain. His eyes swiveled around to rest on the dripping actuary and his expression softened.

"Come here, Ram. Let's warm you up."

Tron walked through the bedroom into the bathroom and reached for one of the fluffy towels on the shelf. The actuary trailed after him obediently, watching him with those trusting doe eyes of his.

"What's that?" Ram asked curiously.

"Towel. It dries you off," the monitor explained. "Close your eyes for a moment."

Ram obeyed and Tron gently began to towel his curls dry, at least to the point where he wasn't dripping everywhere. For Tron, it actually felt rather nice, having someone to take care of. It kept him distracted from everything that was wrong with him.

The actuary was enjoying it too. There had been many times where it felt like his old friend was someone completely different, someone he didn't know. Moments like this, though, was when the real Tron resurfaced, the one that had always been kind and gentle with him. He kept his eyes closed and sighed softly at the steady massaging of his scalp.

"There," Tron said softly, pulling away. "You'll probably want to rerezz your clothes too, to get completely dry."

He fluffed Ram's soggy curls once before grabbing a fresh towel and stepping into his bedroom and turning away. Ram blinked in mild confusion, looking down at the towel that Tron had left in his hands. As he watched, the top half of the monitor's suit melted away, revealing a muscled back lined with the faint outlines of circuits. There were more underneath than showed on his clothes, the actuary noted with some surprise. He had a very nice pattern, all lined up in perfect little rows across his back that was reminiscent of the patterns of the old system.

His admiration was interrupted by Tron's white towel as he dried himself off, and Ram turned away quickly, embarrassed. He was supposed to be drying off. He pushed the door half closed with his foot and derezzed his own clothes, shivering slightly as he wrapped himself in his own towel and huddled like that for a few moments. He held out his bare arms in front of him and examined them. He'd never actually seen his own skin before and it was rather fascinating, the way the blue circuits blended in against his skin just like the lines on Flynn that he'd called veins. His weren't as neat as Tron's though, not at all even or steady. He frowned.

"Ram?"

The actuary jumped as Tron rapped lightly on the door with his knuckles. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, fine, I guess." He rerezzed just the bottom half of his suit and dropped the towel before stepping outside, extending his pale arms in front of him. The monitor blinked in surprise.

"Look," Ram complained. "Mine aren't even. They're all squiggly. Is that bad?"

Tron smiled slightly, taking Ram's hand lightly in one of his as he looked over his arm. "I think that's just because you've been rewritten, Ram."

"Oh." The actuary frowned a little, the expression so ridiculously adorable on his face that it made Tron chuckle. He traced one of the swirling patterns lightly with a finger, the sensation making Ram shiver.

"Tickles a little," the actuary murmured, his eyes closing as Tron's finger skated across the inside of his arm. He leaned in slightly, his forehead resting lightly against the monitor's chin.

"I like your squiggly circuits," Tron chuckled quietly. "It's unique. Makes you special."

"You think so?" Ram asked in a voice that was almost a whisper, watching his old friend with wide, innocent eyes.

The monitor chuckled again. "Oh, Ram. Always putting yourself down. I _know_ so." He finally released his friend's arm and ruffled his hair again. "Don't you worry about it too much, Ram. Just know I'll always be here to take care of you, alright?"

The actuary nodded firmly, grinning. "I've always known that, Tron."

xXx

The two were curled up comfortably on the couch, all their worries dissipated for the moment, when there was a sharp knock on the door.

"Are we expecting someone?" Ram asked, blinking in surprise.

"Not as far as I know," Tron muttered, his expression suddenly dark. "Stay here."

He gently untangled himself from Ram and ruffled his curls lightly, pulling out a small smile from the actuary. He doubted that it was another monitor come to call on him. He'd made it quite clear that he was taking time off until further notice, and the others respected his wishes. He was the most experienced, the oldest, and as such he was also the most respected.

No, who he suspected was at the door was Flynn. He'd have arrived back at his place and had a long drawn-out debate with Quorra and Sam before realizing that Tron and Ram weren't there. Then of course he'd want to find them and explain to them.

But Tron was tired of Flynn's explanations. He'd listened to them too many times. And the _last_ time Flynn had tried to say that nothing was wrong with Clu, Tron had suffered for it. The User was a good friend of his, yes, and Tron was still loyal to him, but at some point he just had to put his foot down. This was that point.

He opened the door wearily to see that yes, it was Flynn. And behind him was none other than the perpetrator of all the angst, the not-so-beloved admin.

"What do you want?" Tron snapped, his eyes growing cold.

"Please let us in," Flynn said softly, watching the monitor calmly.

It was impossible to argue when Flynn played the 'I'm old, be nice to me' card. Tron let out an annoyed huffy breath and backed up, opening the door all the way and allowing the two in. Ram looked up from the couch.

"You've got nerve, Flynn," Tron said angrily, not taking his eyes off of Clu. "After everything that happened you choose to bring _him_ back to be the _admin_, of all things? It's not going to work. You must realize this means rebellion and then the whole Grid will fall into chaos again. He doesn't even have to _do_ anything."

"Tron, please listen-"

"No, Flynn, _you_ listen!" the monitor interrupted, stepping forward. "I've been paying for your mistakes for over a thousand cycles! You _think_ you know best, and most of the time, you do, but whenever it comes to _him_ you're always so misguided! I've tried to tell you over and over, I saw it coming, but no, _nothing_ could _possibly_ be wrong with your glitching _perfect_ Clu!"

Ram sunk down into the couch as Tron raged, looking anywhere but at the furious monitor. His eyes fell on the program hanging back nervously behind Flynn, who flinched every now and again at Tron's harsh words.

That face was familiar... He could _swear_ he'd seen it before. And not just because it was Flynn's face. Ram had _seen_ Clu before. Not with his own eyes, perhaps, but maybe in a data bank? Maybe...

Oh, User. With a sharp gasp that went unheard beneath Tron's yelling, Ram remembered.

Clu was the system admin from before, the one that had destroyed everything, turned the Grid upside down...

The one that had broken Tron.

Every breath hurt in the most excruciating of ways. It felt like was being torn apart pixel by pixel. Ram whimpered, clutching at his head. Clu had broken Tron, made him Rinzler, made him kill... kill... wipe out the ISOs... innocent programs... believers...

He slipped sideways off the couch, and the resounding crash brought Tron and Flynn both back to the present. The actuary was huddled on the floor, holding his head tightly and moaning. The sounds he made seemed to be a confused muddle of words and pained whimpers, though occasionally some phrases came across clearer.

"No, no, no, Ram." Tron murmured in sheer agony, rushing towards him and pulling him into his arms. Not this again, please not this again. He couldn't go through this again, not now, not ever...

"D-don't-" Ram whimpered, flinching away. "I _know_... Flynn I need Flynn..."

The User was already there. "Sorry kiddo," he told the actuary softly, reaching out to squeeze his trembling hand. "I had to. I should have realized Clu would trigger it..."

"Trigger _what_?" Tron asked angrily. "What did you do, Flynn?"

Flynn didn't answer for a moment, instead reaching out to touch Ram's forehead. The little program fell still, his systems shutting down with a small sigh. He closed Ram's eyes gently and sighed deeply.

"I put a block in his own memories, Tron," Flynn replied in a quiet voice. "I kept him from remembering what he found out about Rinzler."


	9. Chapter 9

((A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is so short, I'm actually on my way across the country from California to Georgia and attempting to get up something that looks like a chapter while I do so. Anyway, hope you enjoy, and don't worry, the next chapter will be much much better))

There was a long silence as Tron simply gaped at Flynn, unable to comprehend that he had done such a thing.

"You did _what?"_ he hissed in a low, dangerous voice. He pulled Ram further into his lap and held him protectively.

Flynn sighed and ran a hand through his greying hair. He couldn't say that he hadn't expected this, but the betrayal on Tron's face still hurt. "I had no choice, Tron. I had to so he could recover from the virus properly. If he had to deal with that information _and_ the virus, it would have been too much of a strain on his system."

"Maybe so, but you could have at least told _me _about this!" Tron argued. "That's the trouble with you, Flynn. You're so caught up in _yourself_ that you don't see what you're doing to others! That's what started the whole mess with Clu in the first place!"

The rebooted Clu, forgotten by the doorway, shifted uncomfortably and kept his gaze anywhere but at the trio on the floor.

"Tron-"

"_No_, Flynn. I'm sorry. I don't want to hear it," the security program scowled firmly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fix Ram, and then I'd like you to leave. Please. Ram will stay with me now."

There was a temptation to add '_I can take care of him better than you can'_, but Tron wasn't a particularly cruel person, and that would have been crossing the line. Sometimes Flynn was an idiot. Tron hoped that his own User had some common sense.

Flynn was silent for a long moment, just nodding. He had just wanted to help, wanted to ease the adjustment process, but in reality, it seemed he had only made it worse.

He gently unhooked Ram's disc and went to work in total silence.

Clu swallowed uncomfortably as he watched his User work. Tron was acting like the other program wasn't even in the room, which honestly, he didn't mind. He had always admired Tron from something of a distance. He had a bond with Flynn that was completely different from the one that Clu had with his User. Flynn didn't see Tron in the same way that he saw most of his other programs. The other programs were his children, but Tron...Tron was his _friend, _and sometimes Clu was a bit jealous of that. He could never speak to Flynn the way the monitor had just now, though sometimes he wondered if he ought to.

xXx

"I don't know what you were expecting, Flynn, but it seems like Tron had a completely understandable reaction to me," Quorra remarked from where she was cuddled against Sam in the couch.

She hadn't completely relaxed yet with Clu in the room, and her eyes kept flickering back to him in such a way to make him feel completely uncomfortable, but after some time, she had come to accept that he was not leaving any time soon. She trusted Flynn, despite his poor choices at times. She heartily approved of the fact that he was actually _doing _things now, as opposed to their time in exile when he did absolutely nothing, though his decision as far as Clu was concerned made her nervous.

"Don't worry too much about it, Dad," Sam said with a shrug. "You're taking him out in a millicycle or two. He'll completely forget he was even mad."

Flynn couldn't help but laugh as he sat down across from the two. Clu was edging slowly away into his room, casting furtive glances at the others to see if someone would stop him.

"Nah, he's too much like Alan. He'll let it go for a little while, but he won't forget. Sam, I'm sure you know what I mean," the older man replied.

Sam grinned sheepishly. "I know a little too well, yeah."

"I could go pick them up when we leave," Quorra offered.

Flynn nodded slowly. "That might be the better idea. I'll go ahead and meet up with Alan, if you two don't mind taking Ram and Tron through the Portal."

Sam interrupted. "I should go with you. Alan will have work and you can stay at our place for a while. Quorra can handle it on her own, right?"

The ISO laughed lightly as she uncurled herself from the couch and stood, heeled black boots clicking on the illuminated floors. "If Tron is as upset as you seem to think he is, it might be a bit of a challenge, but don't worry, I'll handle it. You boys go on ahead and let me do the hard work." She winked playfully, tossing her short hair.

Sam rolled his eyes and chuckled.


	10. Chapter 10

((A/N: thank you everyone for all of your reviews, especially The Usual Suspects over there. you know who you are. i adore you all :D anyway, for those of you that love faster updates, go check out my other tron fic, Simulation Serenity. i try to update more regularly with that, though the chapters are shorter. also, if any of you are close to disneyland, go check out elecTRONica at california adventure. it is the best thing EVER. i was so excited i literally screamed and almost fainted. not even joking. okay, done with all my advertisements. now back to your regularly scheduled Digital Frontier))

Ram stirred fitfully in his sleep, white circuits flickering. Beside him, his subdued guardian sat, running a hand through his dark hair and watching the smaller program quietly. All was silent but the muffled sounds of the actuary as he dealt with data that had until recently been surpressed.

This was it, Tron thought bleakly. Ram would wake and never want to see him again. He would be utterly destroyed by the knowledge of what Tron had been forced to become, and he wouldn't be able to deal with the reminder there beside him.

Tron sighed and slid off the bed, ruffling Ram's curls affectionately and letting a finger slide briefly across the actuary's cheek. Losing him again...He wasn't sure if he'd be able to deal with it. He'd been through enough pain and loss in the last thousand cycles, and he had already experienced the agony of losing a mate. Yori, sweet, wonderful Yori, who had always taken care of him and loved him, had been killed in the bombing of the first End of Line club. The ghost of past pain brought him to his knees, gasping softly and hugging his aching chest tightly.

He couldn't do this. Couldn't. The war had broken him down, made him more fragile than he cared to show to anyone. When Ram left, Tron would stop existing. There was nothing else for him.

A loud knock on the front door startled him, and he pulled himself to his feet swiftly. He glanced quickly at Ram, ensuring that the program was still asleep, before closing the bedroom door softly behind him and proceeding on to the front door.

Tron opened the door after a brief pause, expecting to see Norton or Anon. A flat refusal to go anywhere was already on his lips before he registered his unexpected guest.

"Hello, Tron," said an overly cheerly Quorra, her pale eyes bright.

Tron blinked in some surprise and leaned against the door frame, blocking the entrance. "Quorra. What brings you here?"

He noted that she was practically vibrating with excitement and completely unperturbed by his brusque behavior, a fact that mildly irritated. "I'm here to bring you and Ram to the Portal," she said brightly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? And why is that?"

Quorra just smiled mischeviously. "Do I have to tell you the answer to that?"

There was a loud yawn from behind Tron and he turned to see Ram, rubbing his eyes and looking as though he hadn't slept at all. He brushed back his own hair and frowned slightly at Quorra.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in sleepy confusion.

She grinned at the actuary. "You and Tron are coming with me to the Portal."

Tron sneaked a side glance at Ram, who hadn't once looked at the monitor and was instead processing what the ISO had said slowly. Suddenly he seemed to grasp it, and his eyes brightened.

"Wait, you mean-?" he began excitedly.

Quorra laughed and nodded. "Yeah. You two are going to help us change the world. The User world and our world are about to get introduced properly."

"Us?" Tron asked sharply. "Who is 'us'?"

"Well..." The ISO seemed suddenly hesitant. "There's me, and Sam, and Flynn, of course."

Both programs in the door froze up temporarily at the last name. "Of course," the monitor muttered in obvious irritation. "Quorra, I'm sorry, but Flynn has proven several times that he is incapable of-"

"Flynn isn't running the show this time, Tron. It's all Sam," Quorra cut in smoothly. "But we need your help on this, you _and _Ram. The world out there...We can share it with the Users if we can pull this off." She watched them both with her slightly unnerving stare. "Believe me, you will _want _to be there."

There was a short, tense pause.

"I want to go," said Ram loudly, breaking the silence. His shoulder brushed Tron's lightly as he stepped out the door past him to stand beside Quorra. "I've always wanted to," he admitted. He caught Tron's gaze for a moment, but the monitor quickly broke eye contact.

"Who will be running the system while everyone's gone?" he asked Quorra instead.

The ISO hesitated again, pausing for a long moment before speaking. "Clu," she said finally. "But he'll be under close supervision by the system monitors."

That didn't sit well with Tron at all, and the grim lines on his face only tightened.

"Come with us," Ram said softly, looking up at his friend.

Those were the first words he'd spoke to Tron since he'd gotten up, and that was all the monitor needed to hear. He hesitated for a nanocycle longer before nodding. "Alright," he agreed reluctantly.

xXx

"Getting through the Portal is easy enough if you know how," Quorra was explaining from the pilot's seat of the three-man lightjet. "All that Users have to do is walk through, but since programs have to be adapted to function in their world, it takes a little more."

"Adapted?" asked Ram nervously, gripping his armrests rather tightly from the back seat.

"Oh, don't worry about it," the ISO replied easily. "It just feels a little uncomfortable. But if we weren't adjusted, we couldn't exist in their world the same way we do here. Flynn knows all the technicalities of it, so if you want to know exactly, you'll have to ask him."

Tron stayed mostly quiet from his seat beside Quorra, just watching as the light from the Portal grew brighter and brighter. He was trying very hard not to think about the last time he was this close to the Portal. The strongest recollection he had of this place was falling. He swallowed hard, his entire body tense.

"What do we have to do?" he finally asked, trying to distract himself from his newfound fear of flying over the Sea.

"Not much," Quorra said with a shrug. "You just need one disc with the proper coding on it, and that should get us all through."

"Should?" the actuary squeaked worriedly. "You don't know?"

The ISO turned in her chair to shoot him a crooked smile. "Nope. We've never actually brought any other programs through the Portal. But don't worry. It should be fine, according to Flynn."

"That's reassuring," Tron muttered under his breath.

No one spoke as the jet touched down lightly on the illuminated runway. It was a perfect, smooth landing, which hardly surprised Tron at all. Quorra was the best pilot in the entire Grid, and not just with vehicles that flew.

They all clambered out of the jet and took a moment just to admire the shining pillar of light before them.

"Wow," Ram breathed.

Quorra and Tron shared a smile. In the system that Ram had originated from, there had been nothing like the Portal. Being this close was breathtaking, even for Quorra, who had come here a thousand times before.

Finally the ISO moved, running towards the light with an easy grace. The two fell into place behind her, each one slightly to one side in an instinctual V pattern that grew out of constant combat training.

Quorra pulled her disc free and grinned at the other two as she stepped into the Portal.

"Well, come on!" she urged. Tron followed without hesitation, but Ram paused before the light, biting his bottom lip in nervousness.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" he called over the whooshing noise of the light.

"Not completely!" Quorra yelled back.

Ram's eyes found Tron's and the monitor nodded once. Somewhat reassured, the actuary stepped into the light on Quorra's other side. She lifted her disc up into the Portal, and then everything exploded into a million shards of white.

xXx

"That was fun," groaned a familiar voice to Tron's left.

"Ram?"

"Tron?"

"Are you alright?"

"I can't see anything. You?"

"Me neither. I think it's just dark."

"Where's Quorra?"

There was a cough. "Here."

"What's going on?"

"We're early. Sam hasn't turned the lights on." The ISO's voice was tight and rough.

"Are you alright?"

"I-I don't think that went as well as we planned..."

"There wasn't much planning involved."

"No, but...Ram, is that you?"

"Oof! Yes, that's me."

"Sorry. Can you reach into my pocket and...hand me whatever's in there?"

"What's a pocket?"

"Nevermind."

There was a scuffling sound, and a moment later, a small square of artificial blue light appeared, just barely illuminating the dark room. From what Tron could see of Quorra, she was having some difficulty pulling herself to her feet and staggering across the room. There was a small click, and a moment later the lights flickered on, rendering all three programs momentarily blind.

Tron blinked furiously, fighting to reclaim his vision. Bit by bit, the room came into focus. Ram was curled up on his side, an arm thrown over his face to block the light. On the other side of the room, Quorra slumped onto the plastic covered couch, sending up a flurry of thick dust that made everyone cough. One arm was curled against her torso, her fingers closed around a small dark object. He tried to determine what it was, but his attention was diverted by the red viscous liquid that seemed to be dripping from her fingertips.

"Quorra?" he called sharply, getting to his feet.

Her pale eyes fluttered open and she took a moment to focus in on him. "Never happened before," she mumbled.

Ram rolled over, frightened by the sharpness in Tron's tone and the weakness in Quorra's. Tron knelt before the ISO, gently tugging her arm away from her torso.

"What's that?" Ram asked, going rather pale.

"Blood," Tron muttered. Her clothes had been torn to reveal deep, oozing gashes along the soft flesh of her inner arm and her stomach. "It's how you know when Users hurt themselves."

"But...she's not a User..."

"Systems adapt, remember?" Quorra reminded Ram, her voice soft. "Hafta be compatible..."

"Hush," the monitor reprimanded her gently, pressing lightly against the long wound. The ISO let out a pained whimper, her body trembling. "Sorry. Is there a way we can get you help?"

She took in a long, shuddering breath, fingers tightening around the dark object before she took it lightly in her other hand. Almost by instinct, she held it out, slim fingers moving sluggishly across the buttons.

An odd buzzing began to emenate from the thing every few seconds, and the two Basics exchanged puzzled glances. Ram opened his mouth to ask what it was.

_"Hello?"_

He was interrupted by a shockingly familiar voice that seemed to be coming from the thing in Quorra's limp hand. Ram blinked in surprise and turned to Tron, but he was equally shocked.

"Alan, you busy?" Quorra mumbled to the thing, holding it close to her mouth.

_Alan-One._ Tron mouthed the words, trembling slightly. His User_._ It was his _User._

_"No, I was just starting my lunch break. You don't sound so good, is everything alright?"_

The ISO bit back a cry as the monitor's grip tightened on her injured arm. "Basement of the arcade," she croaked. "Let Sam know. Something went wrong with the Portal."

The User's reply was immediate. _"I'm on my way. Hang on."_

xXx

"Perfect day for things to mess up," Alan muttered to himself, throwing himself into the driver's seat of his little Honda and rummaging through his pockets for his keys. Jamming them into the ignition, he started the car and tore out of the parking garage.

"Five days before the gala. Well, at least it isn't the day _of_," he told his dashboard. It was a good listener, after all. "But of course Flynn can't do anything about it, because he's supposed to be pretending that he's still missing."

The flare of annoyance briefly covered up the old affection for his best friend. Flynn just never seemed to be available when he was _really_ needed, and it was something that had frustrated him about the other man for as long as he'd known him.

"Not to mention his complete lack of common sense," Alan added aloud. "At least I was around to make sure Sam's head was at least partially screwed on straight."

He immediately regretted the thought. It would have been a thousand times better if Sam had had his real father around, though Alan did like to think that he'd had an important role in the youngest Flynn's upbringing.

Which reminded him that he needed to call Sam and let him know that something was up. Though of course, Alan wasn't even sure _what _was the issue here. All he knew was that all his paternal instincts had gone crazy at that tone in Quorra's voice. Something had gone very wrong.

Pulling out his cell with his free hand, he attempted to dial with one hand while keeping his eyes somewhat on the road. It took a few minutes, but finally he was successful in dialing Sam's number. He jammed the small black object to his ear and let his body go on autopilot to the familiar destination of Flynn's dusty old arcade.

_"Sam Flynn."_

"Sam, it's Alan Bradley," the older man began, glancing at the clock on his dashboard. "Got a call from Quorra about ten minutes ago. She said something went wrong with the Portal. I'm not sure what exactly, but I'm on my way to the arcade to check it out."

There was a moment of silence from the other end. _"Is everything okay?"_

"I don't know yet," Alan replied shortly. "But you know how she is. She doesn't ask for help unless she really needs it."

_"Yeah, I know." _There was another pause, and he could almost hear the younger man thinking. _"Alright, see what's going on, and then call me back. If it's bad, I can just leave Dad here at my place."_

"Great. Talk to you later, Sam."

The line went dead and Alan sighed. This was the last thing any of them needed right now.

xXx

Tron had taken up pacing back and forth as they waited for his User. It was too difficult to just sit, though trying to ignore Ram's eyes on him was nearly as bad. The actuary had seated himself on the couch beside Quorra, letting her lean against him as he kept steady pressure on the wounds. Tron knew very little about User injuries from his time with Flynn, though it seemed to him that she wasn't bleeding nearly as much as she ought to be. Her blood appeared to be thicker, and had an odd glittery appearance to it. He was just hoping that didn't mean something terrible.

The sound of rapid footsteps just above them made him pause, his head snapping in the direction of the door and watching it anxiously. Despite the whole situation, he couldn't help but wonder what his User would be like. He'd given up much of his hope in their kind, but the idea of actually being able to meet him had restored a flicker of the familiar flame that had once burned in his chest.

Alan crossed the doorframe with some trepidation, pushing his glasses up further on his nose as he stepped inside and surveyed the scene. His dark eyes landed first on the program closest to him, and he inhaled sharply. He was staring at a carbon copy of _himself._ A younger Alan, minus the thick nerdy glasses and wearing a tight-fitting black jumpsuit that, oddly enough, looked very _cool_ on him.

"Alan-One," the program murmured reverently, ducking his head briefly in something of a bow. Alan couldn't help but smile.

"Hello, Tron."

Next, his attention went to the dusty couch and its current inhabitants. The smile grew wider. "And you're Ram," he said with fondness. Of course, the surprise Flynn had had for Roy. The little program was perfect copy of his old friend, this one also bedecked in black.

"You know me?" Ram gasped in surprise, his eyes widening. Quorra snorted in amusement from his shoulder.

"I'm impressed, how fast were you driving?" she mumbled, her voice alarmingly quiet. Her pale eyes flickered open, containing only a ghost of her usual mirth. Alan's paternal instincts kicked into overdrive, his stomach clenching as he spotted the blood staining across both her clothes and Ram's.

"Not fast enough," he commented, trying to sound lighthearted. "Let's get you out of here."


	11. Chapter 11

((A/N: just as a brief explanation, my Tron knowledge is somewhat limited to the two movies, Tron: Evolution, and Wikipedia, so from what I know, Lora and Yori have completely dropped off the face of the planet. if other things have happened with Lora in the comics, I know absolutely nothing about that, and am doing my own thing with her.))

Tron and Ram hardly had time to take in their first trip to the User world while they were worrying over Quorra. Alan had quickly called Sam, who had demanded they rush her to the hospital and he would meet them all there. To which Alan had demanded what name they bring Quorra in, and how would they ever manage to keep her identity as a program a secret, and a whole list of other worries. If the situation had been different, Ram would have laughed at the similarity between the User and his program. Alan thought of every possible situation just the same as Tron had been followed by an uncomfortable trip in what the User called a 'car'. Tron had sat in the passenger's seat, while Ram was in the back with the ISO's head in his lap. None of the programs seemed to like the vehicle all that much.

Sam had met them at the hospital as promised, abandoning his motorcycle in a hurry as Alan's car pulled up. His face was pale and drawn with worry as he gently took Quorra from Ram and carried her carefully into the building. Her blood seemed to be everywhere, but no one really cared in all the chaos.

Then there had been much more noise and clamor, and Quorra was being whisked away from them. Sam accompanied her the whole time, waving off any and all questions with 'I'm Sam Flynn', which seemed to satisfy everyone that asked.

And that had eventually brought them here, two programs and one User all perched on uncomfortable plastic chairs. Sam joined them after a short time, but all he had to say was that they were doing what they could and it looked like she would be alright. That didn't seem to calm him down much, Ram thought absently, watching the twitchy young User. He kept getting to his feet and pacing, after which he would sit down for a few moments, then excuse himself to go somewhere, then return to continue the pattern.

All in all, he couldn't say that his first experience in the User world was anything like he might have expected, had he anticipated ever coming here. Sitting here in this agonizingly white and clean building, his clothes stiff with dried blood, and wondering if Tron was ever going to keep eye contact for longer than a nanocycle.

It wasn't very fun at all.

After what felt like a long time, a man dressed all in white emerged from Quorra's room. Sam instantly rose to his feet. A moment later Tron and Alan imitated the motion in complete unison, and Ram, feeling like he ought to stand too, copied them.

"She'll be fine," the man told Sam. "It seems that she didn't bleed as much as we might have expected, which is probably because of her abnormally thick blood. We haven't had to give her more blood, and believe me, that is very good, as I'm not sure we would have been able to find something that her body would accept, due to her...slight anatomical differences."

Everyone seemed to sigh in relief all at once and Sam nodded, rubbing his face.

"However," the man continued. "There is the issue of the source of her injury and her identity."

Alan cleared his throat, but Sam beat him to it.

"That's nothing you need to worry about," he said in a sharp tone. "Keep her off your records and I'll pay the hospital bills plus extra. When can I take her home?"

The man seemed rather affronted. "Mr. Flynn, I'm sorry, but it's against hospital policy to do that."

"If you have to put a name down at all, use mine," Sam snapped. "It's very important that she stays anonymous. You've seen for yourself that she's different, and it's my job to keep her safe. I'll pay you extra, and you won't tell anyone _anything_ about her, alright?"

There was a long, awkward pause. A moment later a tired, frightened voice called from the room with the open door.

"Saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaam!"

"Dammit," Sam muttered, and brushed past the man to find Quorra.

xXx

Sam adamantly refused to leave without Quorra, and Alan was reluctant to leave Sam, which meant the programs were stuck at the obscenely white hospital as well. There seemed to be some kind of unspoken ban on talking, or breathing loudly, or making any sort of sound that might disturb the complete, utter silence in Quorra's small room. After some coaxing and calming, she'd fallen back asleep, the fingers of one hand tangled with Sam's. Understandably, she wasn't coping well in the unfamiliar surroundings. The strange people in white coats had apparently carried out some kind of procedure that the programs couldn't quite understand, but whatever it was, it had been successful, and they would be able to take Quorra home soon.

Ram wasn't entirely sure what their definition of 'soon' was, because apparently it was different from his. Sam seemed to have dozed off as well in his armchair beside Quorra's bed, and the User that separated him from Tron looked about ready to fall asleep himself.

_User_, he was bored. If only he could read the squiggles on the flimsy books beside them, then perhaps he'd have something to entertain himself at least for a bit longer, but anything beside binary confused him. Nor did he want to shut down. He just wasn't tired, and he was still trapped in stiff, blood-soaked clothes that were growing increasingly uncomfortable the longer he sat in them.

Unable to stand the stagnation any longer, the actuary pushed himself to his feet and looked around. There was absolutely nothing to look at, though he felt Tron's eyes on him the moment he moved.

There had to be _something _to do around here, right? Ram hesitantly headed for the door, and when no one called out to stop him, he pushed it open and stepped out into the tiled hallway. He paused outside the door, wondering which way he should go and what he should do. There were signs all over the place, but Ram was incapable of reading anything but binary, and these were definitely not in binary. Once again he mused that he really should get someone to teach him to read.

The door opened and closed again behind him, and the familiar clicking of boots on tile jerked him back to reality. He turned, surprised to see Tron there behind him.

"Oh, Tron," Ram replied, realizing a second later that he sounded completely clueless. "I was just...um..."

Tron shook his head. "I think we need to talk, Ram."

"Talk?" The actuary blinked innocently.

"Come on, let's take a walk."

He took off with his easy, confident stride, and Ram tagged along behind him, wondering how Tron ever managed to look so comfortable all the time. He just had that air to him, the actuary supposed. He was used to the authority and he wore it well.

"You're quiet," the security program noted after a moment, his tone almost worried.

"Confused," Ram replied quietly. "A lot happened really fast and I'm still trying to catch up with it, I think."

There was another long pause and they rounded a corner. It seemed like now there was some kind of invisible wall between them, a barrier that they were both afraid to cross or even mention. Ram hated it.

"I thought you might be upset with me," Tron said delicately, trying to sound nonchalant and failing. "About what happened."

"You mean with Rinzler," the actuary murmured. It wasn't a question. Beside him, the monitor shivered.

"Yes."

Ram sighed. It was very important that he managed to say exactly what he needed to say in the right phrasing. Making sure that Tron understood was the most important part of this. He was silent for some time, just thinking out what he could say and how he could put it.

"Listen, Tron..."

He was just beginning what could have been an almost decent explanation when he was interrupted by a loud, female voice that made them both jump.

"Greetings, programs!"

The two turned in surprise to see a tall, bespeckled woman striding towards them, a friendly smile splitting her face. Tron froze up completely, taking in the greying hair that had once been blonde, the bright smile, all of it so agonizingly familiar that it made his chest ache.

She whistled softly as she approached, looking the two over with that sunny smile. "Lora Bradley," she said by way of introduction, shaking Ram's hand. Her smile fell slightly as her gaze turned to Tron, sympathy in her eyes.

"I'm sorry about Yori," she told him softly, lifting his chin with a finger and forcing him to look at her. "I've heard things have been hard on you for a long time. It's not very fair, but there's nothing we can do to change the past."

Tron tried to look away, but the older woman's hand was surprisingly firm. "Let's focus on the future instead, alright?" Lora continued encouragingly. "The trip here wasn't supposed to be quite so bumpy, and we've got a lot ahead of us that needs to get done with only a few days to do it."

Ram shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry, but, um, who are you?" he asked hesitantly.

Lora released Tron and instead turned back to the actuary, the smile returning. "I was Yori's User," she explained. "And that old softie back in there has been my husband for over twenty years now. But more importantly, I'm your ride outta here."

"Oh, don't worry," she continued, cutting off Ram even as he opened his mouth to speak. "Quorra's going to be just fine. They're planning to keep her in here at least for tonight and then she can go home. I'm assuming you're ready to go?"

The two programs exchanged glances briefly before nodding in tandem. "Definitely," the actuary replied gratefully.


	12. Chapter 12

((A/N: Sorry for the long break! Life's been a hassle and I've been having some issues with my writing and prioritizing, so here's the deal. I am going to attempt to get this all wrapped up by the time I start school again in September, and...just plan on me finishing it by then.

Special thanks to nerdgirl1122, who left me a very sweet and well-timed review just as I was considering letting this die off. Much gratitude to all of my readers and of course, my reviewers. I'm pretty certain this would have died off early without your support. I love you all, and this chapter, just like every other, is dedicated especially to you.))

It was funny how sitting around and doing nothing seemed to take up so much energy. After their excruciatingly long day at the hospital, Ram and Tron had no desire whatsoever to do anything but sleep. An understanding Lora set up makeshift beds on the couches in the living room and tucked the two programs in before retreating to the master bedroom that belonged to her and Alan. It didn't take long before the house fell silent.

"Tomorrow afternoon? That's great," the soft voice of Lora Bradley was saying. Ram stirred sleepily, tucking his face into his pillow and attempting to scavenge what he could of more sleep.

"No, no, don't worry about it, Sam. You just keep an eye out for Quorra and I'm sure Alan will handle things just fine on his own. We still have some time after all."

Ram blinked. He couldn't hear anyone else, but it was quite clear that Lora was having a conversation with Sam Flynn. Stifling another yawn, he gave up on sleep and sat up, peering over the back of the couch. Lora was occupied in a mysterious room full of odd shaped machinery, one of the odd objects that Quorra had used to communicate with Alan pressed to her ear. He frowned slightly, confused, but kept quiet.

"No, I'm sure I can handle these two. It's no problem." Lora let out a soft laugh. "I know you know. Take care. Send Quorra my love. Mmhmm. Bye."

There was a small click as she closed the object and set it down. A moment later, she planted her hands on her hips and turned around, catching Ram peering over the couch at her and smiling. He smiled sheepishly, embarrassed to be caught.

"Well, come over here," she invited. "I'm surprised Tron's still asleep."

The actuary glanced back at his friend, who looked as though he had become one with the couch. "He doesn't sleep much," he admitted quietly, approaching the User rather hesitantly. "He's too busy doing other things. And then he won't allow himself to sleep long because...well...he's usually looking after me."

Lora quirked an eyebrow and nodded. "Takes after Alan more than I expected," she replied with a small smile. "Now. Ram." She held up a frying pan. "Want to help me make breakfast?"

xXx

It didn't take Ram long to decide that he liked breakfast. Lora explained that food was something that Users used to recharge, much like liquid energy for programs. Her ever present smile didn't waver in the slightest as she coached the actuary through cooking eggs, sausage, and bacon. He wasn't particularly good at it, but in the end, they managed to pull together a suitable breakfast. Tron woke around the time that delicious smells began emanating from the room that Lora called a kitchen, but turned down an offer to help, instead watching in silent amusement and intrigue.

Both programs realized immediately that food was possibly the greatest User invention. They greedily devoured their portions and the extra that Lora, laughing brightly, offered them, in what was surely record time.

When everyone's plates were clean, Lora leaned forward across the small table and brushed a blonde curl out of her face. "Alright, you two, we've got a lot to get done today," she explained. "But according to Sam, we have to go somewhat incognito."

"Incognito?" Ram repeated blankly. "But...no one even knows who we are."

"That may be true," Lora agreed. "But if someone who knows your Users happens to see you, they might talk. You two look exactly the way they did twenty years ago." A reminiscent smile crossed her face. "The point being. We don't want anyone to know about you until the right moment."

Tron shifted in his chair. "What exactly do they plan on us doing?" he asked, a hint of defiance in his tone. He didn't take well to being someone's project. Or at least, that was the way he saw it.

"I'll let someone else explain it. I'm not the one in charge," the User replied with a shrug.

xXx

Eventually, however, Lora and her black communication device came to the decision that it would be better to keep the programs indoors until their debut. She informed the two that arrangements had been made to begin getting ready the following day, which begged the question:

"So...what do we do today, then?" Ram asked from the floor.

Lora thought for a moment, feeling the eyes of the two curious newcomers on her as she considered. After a pause, a small smile spread across her face. "Well first, you see if you can manage saying goodbye to the carpet, and second, I'll teach you something else."

"It's fuzzy," the actuary mumbled sheepishly before getting to his feet. Fuzzy floors were a new thing for him. Tron raised an amused eyebrow.

"Do you know how to dance, Ram?" Lora asked the smallish program with a mischievous grin.

"D-dance?" The actuary went a little pale. "Uh, no, I...sort of avoided those kind of places...Do I need to know?" he tacked on helplessly.

"Yes," the User replied firmly. "After all the business is over, there's going to be a big party, and learning how to dance properly is important for these occasions."

"Does Tron have to learn too?" he asked quickly, looking over at the security program sprawled across the couch.

"I already know how to," Tron cut in softly. "Flynn taught Yori and..."

Pain closed his throat and made it impossible to finish his sentence. It was incredible how the mere arrangement of words brought up a thousand memories that he wished he could bury. Since Ram's return, it had been easier to deal with losing Yori and feeling utterly alone, but meeting her User had brought the supressed emotions swelling back up.

Ram watched his friend with worry, but Lora caught him by the hand and pulled him out to the middle of the living room floor with her.

"I don't think there's much you can do right now," she murmured quietly in his ear. "Just let him deal with it on his own."

She pulled back and offered him a smile that he reluctantly returned. Tron hadn't exactly been communicating with Ram very much more recently anyway, so in all honesty, he wasn't sure if his friend would actually want to talk about it with him. Still, he couldn't help but worry. He fought it down, however, choosing instead to focus on Lora and her sunny smiles.

"Right," the User encouraged. "Now, I'm just going to teach you the basics of partner dancing. Your left hand goes on my waist, yep, and then you give me your other hand like this."

xXx

The day passed faster than either program had expected, and before they knew it, the two were snuggling into their couch-beds. Alan hadn't come home, but Lora hadn't been bothered, telling an anxious Tron that it wasn't unusual for him to spend nights at Sam and Quorra's.

The monitor had intended to finish the discussion that he and Ram had began at the hospital that night, but the actuary fell asleep in a matter of minutes, and Tron just didn't have the heart to wake him.


	13. Chapter 13

The next three days passed by alarmingly fast, and before Tron knew it, it was already the night before the gala. User time was measured in shorter increments than the programs were used to, or so it seemed.

The awkward trio had barely a moment's rest amidst all the things that needed to be done. They tried to stay off the radar and visit the less frequented shops as they hunted for casual User wear, tuxedos, shoes, and, of course, food.

He still hadn't managed to find the time to talk with Ram. The actuary seemed to have an inexhaustible store of energy, at least until he flopped into bed for the night. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was dead to the world, and nighttime was, more often than not, the only time they had alone together.

Despite the anxiety of what Ram must be thinking, Tron had to admit that being in such an incredible world was doing wonders for him. There was so much that he could find joy in, and it was infinitely easier to smile and laugh. Surprisingly enough, being around Lora constantly was slowly healing the hole that Yori's death had caused. The pain dulled into almost nothing.

It was difficult to decide what moment had been his favorite. His initial thought would have to be the moment he and Ram stepped out into the sunlight for the first time.

_The light had been too much at first, and they had stood blinking in the doorway for several moments. Ram adjusted to it first. Tron heard his sharp little gasp as he fought to regain his vision._

_Then, suddenly, he could see._

_The first thing he noticed was the color. It was absolutely everywhere, a vibrant rainbow of life glowing at the edges of his vision. Before him was a huge mass of water. The sunlight sparkled off the surface almost like the glittering data cubes that programs were made of. Beyond that, he could see the highrises of an enormous city. It too, seemed to shine in the growing sunlight. He stepped outside hesitantly, surprised at the tiny green spears that bowed at his feet. _Plants,_ he realized with a mixture of glee and awe._

_"Tron, look at this."_

_Tron caught up to his friend and followed his gaze up to the glorious pinkish-orange sky. A ball of brilliant light was peaking up on the horizon, and his breath caught in his throat. He'd never seen anything quite like it. It was beautiful, perhaps more beautiful than anything he'd ever seen._

_"The sun," he breathed, awestruck._

_"I knew it," Ram whispered beside him. Tron tore his gaze away from the magnificent sunrise and instead looked at his friend. He was surprised to see his companion's eyes were glistening with moisture, beads of liquid sliding down his cheeks. "I knew there had to be something better."_

The memory made him smile. Ram had been even more upbeat than usual in this place, and had been excelling in everything Lora was teaching him. Every morning he would make breakfast with her, and in the evenings, they would dance. Ram was a natural, and his favorite so far was a swing. Lora would turn on music from a small silver thing she called an "eye pod" and they would dance to every song. Each time she would teach him something new. Tron and Alan would sit on the couch and watch, occasionally speaking to each other.

Tron found that talking to Alan was remarkably easy. The two were cut from the same cloth, as the User put it, and they understood each other better than Tron could have imagined. While they had gone through very different experiences in their lives, they both understood the burden of responsibility and the pain that came with trials.

Tron was slowly coming to the conclusion that he was beginning to heal, bit by bit.

Or at least, it had felt like that, until he found himself being nudged out the door by an impatient Lora for dinner with the Flynns and Quorra. It wasn't that he didn't want to go, he just didn't want to see _Flynn_.

Neither he nor Ram spoke on the way there, though Lora and Alan kept up casual conversation. Occasionally the programs would exchange glances and offer small, encouraging smiles, each shifting awkwardly in their freshly bought User clothes. Tonight was supposed to be a break, a chance for everyone to take a breath and relax before the big event itself, but Tron felt more uncomfortable about this than he did about the gala. The wait made it worse, as the trip from the Bradleys' place to Sam's took longer than he wanted it to.

Finally they arrived, and the collection of Users and programs climbed out of the car. Ram and Tron stayed firmly in the rear of the pack, allowing their friends to take the lead as they walked up the driveway. It was a small, modest house in the middle of what looked to be a tidy little neighborhood, and Lora was heard to express her satisfaction on the place several times before they even made it to the door.

Sam opened the door only a moment after Alan knocked, greeting them all with a smile and many a hearty hello. He allowed Lora to kiss him on the cheek and hug him with a sheepish grin, while he greeted the men with a handshake.

"Glad you came," he said cheerfully, conducting them inside. "We're, uh, dining on pizza tonight. I didn't get home from work until just now."

"You work too hard," Lora remarked with fondness.

"Yeah, yeah, that's what happens when you're CEO," Sam retorted playfully.

Quorra swept inside just then, smiling so brightly it seemed to light up the whole room. It was odd to see her in User clothing, a beige bandage standing out on her pale arm. Just above it was her ISO mark, but it looked different in this world. It didn't shimmer or glow, and it seemed to be imprinted on her skin in a darker color.

"Hi everyone," she beamed. Lora moved in first to give her a gentle hug and a kiss on the forehead.

"You look better," the User commented. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Quorra replied. "Healing slowly."

She gave everyone a hug and a kiss on the cheek, to Tron's and Ram's embarrassment and pleasure. Both went pink in the cheeks at the unexpected gesture and smiled sheepishly.

Tron was actually starting to relax and chat amiably among his friends when the person he was so dreading entered. It was a shock to see him here, in this world, looking as he did now. Both programs lost their trains of thought, blinking and staring at the agonizingly familiar stranger before them.

He looked just the same as he had in the old days, clean-shaven and grinning, and dressed, not in his customary white robes that were the norm for him nowadays, but in a pair of black pants and a plain black tee-shirt. The only things that betrayed his age were the lines on his face and the gray hair.

For one insane moment, Tron was convinced that everything was right again. Somehow, Flynn's transformation almost made him wonder if those thousand cycles of pain had even happened. He shook himself and the sensation passed. There was no point in dwelling on impossible fantasies.

"Ram! Tron!" Flynn was headed their way now, that familiar excited grin from cycles past painted across his face. Nostalgia threatened to overwhelm the security program once more, but he shoved it roughly aside. Flynn clapped a hand on each of the programs' shoulders and gazed at them both in turn, smiling.

"Man, you two look like a blast from the past," he commented. "All you need is just a giant pair of glasses for each of you, and you'd be carbon copies of Alan and Roy from when we were all kids together."

"I was just starting to get used to that beard," Ram retorted, a tease in his voice. Tron was quietly shocked. After Flynn's betrayal, he'd hardly expected Ram to talk to Flynn like that. After all, the actuary had been the one that had been directly affected.

"Direct your complaints to Sam," Flynn replied with a smirk that made something inside Tron ache. (How long had it been since he'd seen that smile?) "He was the one that insisted I shave it off. I guess he wanted me to look more recognizable."

"Well, you're definitely close to that program that walked right into a force field," the actuary grinned.

"I would hope I know a bit more about your world than I did back then. But listen, I didn't actually come over here to reminisce on what an idiot I was."

_You still are an idiot, Flynn_, Tron thought to himself, but he said nothing, instead watching the User with what he hoped looked like sarcastic indifference. After spending time with Alan, he'd noticed that it was an intimidating look on his face.

"I messed up," Flynn said finally, apology replacing his amused smile. "I wanted to apologize mostly to you, Ram, but I know Tron's upset with me too, so this goes out to both of you. Ram, I'm sorry I messed with your memory. I only meant to help, and I was worried you would have a hard time recovering from the virus if you were trying to deal with that other stuff as well. And Tron, you were right. I should have told you beforehand and got your input on it, or at least let you know so you would have an idea of what to expect. I thought that you would prefer it if I let you deal with the situation on your own." He sighed and paused a moment. "I guess I've been so caught up with trying to take care of everything else, I let myself fall back into old habits and just acted without thinking."

A rueful smile crossed his face, making Tron frown in confusion. "Not to mention I was making all these genius decisions after a few shots of Zuse's finest."

Tron couldn't help but groan, planting his face in his hands. "Agh, _Flynn!"_

"Oh believe me, I know," The User replied, grinning now. "You would think that I'd have learned by now." He allowed himself a moment before continuing. "Anyway, I've made some new resolutions that I wanted you to know since I've been making a lot of mistakes lately. Firstly, no deciding on things after I've had a drink, and secondly, no deciding on anything that will affect my friends without consulting or telling them first."

There was a long silence before Ram nodded. "Sounds good to me." He smiled up at the User. "I wasn't really mad to begin with...I mean, I trust you. You wouldn't have done something like that unless you had a good reason. But yeah, next time, let me know."

Tron's amazement increased. He'd known Ram was a bit, well, _naive_, but this was taking it to a whole new level. _But then again_, he realized grimly, _he was already gone when Flynn told Yori and I that Users weren't so different from us in their planning methods._ Maybe it wasn't really faith in his friend, but rather, faith in the Users, that had made Ram think this way. Tron couldn't help but envy such a pure way of thinking.

Flynn too seemed rather surprised, and a grateful smile crossed his face as he listened to Ram. He pulled the little actuary into a wordless hug. "You're a good kid, Ram," he murmured, his voice a little rough. Tron wondered if Flynn was thinking along the same lines as he was.

The two finally broke apart, and the monitor found himself the target of Flynn's anxious gaze. He sighed, not wanting to meet those wide eyes. It just reminded him too much of times past.

"Well, you've finally made one good decision," he said grudgingly, finally looking up at Flynn and allowing a small smile to grace his lips. "And if Ram's forgiven you, then I have no right to stay upset. Just...make sure you think more before you decide things, at least for my sanity," he added, a slightly pleading note in his tone.

"Of course," Flynn agreed easily. "Come here, you."

A moment later, Tron found himself caught in a back-breaking hug. This night was just turning out to be chock full of nostalgic moments. Flynn was great at hugs. A little too great, in Tron's opinion.

"Flynn, you can let go now," he gasped, patting the User awkwardly. As usual, Flynn was driving all the air out of his chest. It took him a moment to catch his breath after he was released, but he grinned at his friend just the same.

"Just like old times?" Ram questioned hopefully, looking back and forth between them.

"Just like old times," the other two agreed in unison.

xXx

"So what's up with the Portal then, Dad?" Sam asked from across the table. "You must have some theories or something, right?"

As though as one, everyone turned from their pizza to Flynn, assaulting him with curious gazes. His immediate reaction was one of obvious discomfort as he noted the twin suspicious looks on Alan and Tron's faces.

"Take it easy, you two, I didn't do anything this time," he said with raised eyebrows, addressing Tron and Alan directly before turning back to Sam. "I've got ideas, yeah, but I can't know for sure until I actually get a look at the Portal itself. The one thing I _can_ say after taking a look at Quorra's disc, though, is that Tron and Ram are lucky she went through first and not them. Her system is designed to adapt, so she took minimal damage compared to what _could_ have happened."

The warm atmosphere around the table morphed immediately into a tense, almost nervous silence. Tron and Ram exchanged glances, a mixture of fear and relief passing between them. Flynn seemed to be hinting that they had come dangerously close to losing losing each other. It was a sobering thought, and Tron couldn't help but be quietly grateful and Quorra had took the hit, since she was the one best equipped to deal with it.

"All the sudden I think I'm okay with being hurt," Quorra said almost jokingly, but the slight tremor in her voice took all the mirth out of it.

"You said you had an idea of what was causing the problem." Alan was the one to break the long silence.

"It's the virus, isn't it?" Tron said suddenly, answering for Flynn, and the User nodded solemnly without elaborating. "Then that makes it my fault. If I had overseen the entire process like I was supposed to, then-"

"Tron, stop," Ram interrupted quietly. The monitor fell silent, turning his gaze to the actuary. Ram could see the silent panic in his dark eyes and bit his lip, moving his hand to rest lightly on Tron's wrist. "We don't know anything for sure. There's no point in making this out to be bigger than it really is, and we have other things we should be focusing on now."

The softly spoken words and the gentle touch on his arm had an almost instantaneous effect on him. The panic drained away swiftly and he nodded. "Of course," he replied just as quietly. "You're right, Ram. None of us need that extra stress."

As a regular conversation started back up around the table, a new thought suddenly occurred to Tron. Perhaps Ram had forgiven _him_ just as easily as he'd forgiven Flynn.


	14. Chapter 14

The silence in the small car rang loudly in Ram's ears. Everyone was understandably nervous about the coming events, and no words had been exchanged since they had left the house.

_We're making history, man!_ Flynn's remarks from the previous night echoed in his head and he licked his lips, straightening his gray jacket for the thousandth time. Lora had insisted that he and Tron wear what she called 'tuxes'. So far, Ram wasn't too fond of them. To begin with, how many layers did he really need? He could hardly lift his arms up without fear of ripping something.

Ram decided that being nervous and uncomfortable was a terrible combination. Even Tron, ever confident and fearless, was quiet and pale. Though, upon closer inspection, Ram had to admit that his companion looked fantastic in that get up. There was one good thing about the clothes.

"See the building over there? Has that funny symbol on it?" Lora's voice shattered the silence, making the programs jump and smile sheepishly. The User was pointing to an enormous tower in the very heart of the city, and Ram let out a startled gasp. It was his first real glimpse of the glory of User architecture.

"Wow," Tron commented, awe written across his face as he exchanged a quick glance with Ram.

Lora chuckled at their reactions. "That's where we're going. There's an enormous room at the very top that we've booked for Encom and its shareholders."

"And an army of newscasters, no doubt," Alan added. "There had better be, anyway. I want this to be all over the news."

"Since when did you get so excited about this?" Lora questioned, amusement clear in her voice.

Alan glanced over at her, offering a rare, bright smile. "Since my best friend came home," he replied simply.

xXx

They were really, really high.

Ram swallowed, taking a few steps back from the wall that ran all the way along the edge of the skyscraper's roof. There were tall buildings in the Grid too, but as of yet he had no need to explore them. It was probably a good thing that he hadn't, because he was learning that he had a fear of heights.

The programs had been shepherded up here with Flynn and told to stay quiet and out of sight, which would usually not be a problem. But Ram had made the mistake of looking out over the wall and realizing how far away they were from the ground. He stumbled a few steps backwards, tripping over something and nearly falling if it weren't for Tron's quick action. Strong arms caught him quickly and set him back on his feet, and he nodded briefly in thanks.

"Everything alright, Ram?" Flynn had noticed the exchange and was looking over at the two from his chair by the door. Ram glanced over at him, and Flynn's frown deepened. "You don't look so good."

Everything was uncomfortably hot and prickly. "Don't let me look over the edge again," he mumbled. "I think I need to sit down."

"Come here, kiddo." Flynn stood up and offered Ram a hand, gently towing him over to the chair and sitting him down.

"What's the matter?" Tron asked, looking extremely worried. Ram couldn't blame him. He'd had too many meltdowns since he'd been rerezzed.

"He's fine," the User replied easily. "Just a little height-related panic attack."

Ram nodded in agreement, wiping sweat off his forehead and fanning himself with a sleeve.

"Really high," he confirmed.

"Just don't think about it," Flynn advised, giving him a small smile. "If you stay away from windows and ledges, you'll be fine."

"Right, okay," the actuary replied breathlessly. He swallowed once and closed his eyes.

xXx

"Quorra, are you ready?" Sam called gently up the stairs. "It's about time to leave."

"I'm coming!"

He waited patiently a few moments longer, fidgeting once more with his bow tie. It still felt sideways, no matter how he tugged on it. The last time he'd dressed up like this was for Gran's funeral. Back then it had felt oppressive and cruel, but now it felt like a reminder of how far he'd come. He sighed and shifted his weight from foot to foot. It had been ages since he'd had to wait on a girl like this. High school, if he remembered correctly. Senior Prom. He hadn't actually been particularly fond of her, but he'd had to ask someone, and she had been one of the few girls that he'd regarded as both nice and pretty.

His pointless, rather depressing train of thought was interrupted by Quorra's arrival at the top of the stairs. She smiled a little shyly at him, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks at the look on his face.

"Is it too much?" she asked hesitantly when she reached his side. She spun in a slow circle, showing off her brand new outfit. It was fairly simple, a strapless, sapphire dress that went down to her ankles, adorned with a single glittering bow at her hip. She'd paired it with strappy silver sandals and elbow-length white gloves to help hide some of the bandaging that still ran up her arm. Her ISO mark, here a glittering blue tattoo, complimented the entire ensemble, adding an extra exotic feel to it.

Sam blinked, realizing a moment too late that Quorra had spoken. "Wha-oh, no! No, not at all. You look great."

She smiled brightly at him. "You too. Your bow tie is a little crooked though." Slim fingers reached out to readjust it, and after a moment of fiddling she nodded. "There!"

The User replied with a fond smile. "Thanks. I've been trying to get that straight. Ready to go?"

"Yep!" Quorra replied cheerfully. "Time to change the world."

xXx

Everything was ready.

The elder Flynn and the two programs were backstage and well hidden from the public eye. No one had seen them yet, all according to plan. Quorra was back with them as well to help direct and ensure everything went smoothly. Not that it was entirely confusing, but poor Ram had looked so lost and nervous that Quorra had decided to stay with him until it was over.

More than two hundred people were in the large recital hall and waiting, a collection of Encom staff, shareholders, and, just as Alan had wanted, camera crews and reporters. A loud babble of sound came up from the other side of the curtain as the crowd chatted amongst themselves, enjoying the free champagne and hors d'oeuvres as they anticipated the coming events.

"Sam?"

The younger Flynn turned at the sound of his father's voice, his nervousness clear in his expression. "What's up, Dad?"

Flynn smiled and clapped his son lightly on the shoulder. "It's time. Knock 'em dead."

A slight smile twitched at the corners of his lips and he nodded. Quorra abandoned her post at Ram's side to give Sam a swift kiss on the cheek, and his smile widened into something that probably construed an actual smile. She patted his shoulder and readjusted his bow tie once again before nodding. It was a conversation without words, but it was exactly what Sam needed.

He peeked through the curtain and caught Alan's eye, giving him a small nod before retreating back to join his friends.

"It's starting," he murmured. _It's finally starting._ After so much careful planning, he wasn't sure if he was ready. But then again, it wasn't really about him this time.

From the other side of the curtain, he heard a finger tapping lightly on the microphone, and a hush fell over the crowd as Alan began.

"Hello and welcome to this year's annual Encom Gala!" Of course, that was met by a swell of applause, but it died down quickly. "I'm Alan Bradley, Chairman of the Board of Directors, and it is my pleasure to welcome you here tonight. As you know, there have been a lot of changes at Encom in the past few months, but it is more than clear to me that in the long run, all these things will only help make Encom stronger and more prepared for the future."

He paused, and Sam knew it was almost time. He tensed up slightly in anticipation.

"Now I'd like to introduce you all to our current CEO and my good friend, Sam Flynn."

Sam hitched a smile onto his face and stepped out to face the applauding crowd. It was odd to be here on stage during a gala instead of crashing it, and he thought he saw something like suspicion in some of the shareholders' eyes. _Just your imagination, Sam. Pull it together._ He took the microphone from Alan and looked over the guests, noting the news cameras arranged in strategic places around the room. Supposedly this was being broadcasted live, which was a new thing this year. _Probably to make sure I don't screw up._

"Thank you, Alan, and welcome once again. It really is great to be here today," he began in what he was sure was too much of a falsely cheery tone. "I'd like to say just how happy I am to have this position at this company. There's a lot of good people here.

"You may have heard a little of what we have in store for you tonight. I'd like to focus a little bit on my dad, Kevin Flynn. Under his leadership, Encom broke all records in popularity and became _the _most well known company in the _world!_ Not to mention it marketed the two most popular video games of all time, those being, of course, Space Paranoids and Tron."

There was some murmuring in the crowd and Sam forced himself to keep going.

"After Kevin Flynn's disappearance, though, Encom started to slip. Profits fell and the value of our shares decreased. More recently, though, things have started looking up. In the past year, Encom's had one of its most successful fiscal years in history."

Sam smiled slightly, offering the audience a grin. "But I say we can do better.

"People loved Encom because of the spirit it had. It inspired and excited the public. In a sense, Encom was the future. It was ahead of every major technological advance and brought great things at an affordable price.

"It's time that we bring that _back._ Encom shouldn't just be a company, it should be a symbol of something better. We _are_ the future.

"We're going to bring back the spirit of Kevin Flynn."

A huge smile crept unbidden across Sam's face. "Ladies and gentlemen. Here he is."

A collective gasp rose up from the crowd as he emerged. Sam and Alan were both grinning ear to ear as Flynn approached, shooting them both an equally excited smile. This was it.

"Knock 'em dead, Dad," Sam murmured quietly, handing over the microphone and smiling. Flynn chuckled and took it, clearing his throat a few times before looking out at all the astonished faces.

"I'm Kevin Flynn," he started out unnecessarily, grinning sheepishly. "And no, this isn't a joke, or a crazy stunt. I'm _actually_ Kevin Flynn, and for those of you who don't believe me, I have had bloodwork done to prove it. Sam's kept me pretty busy."

It was meant as an icebreaker to relax his audience, but they didn't seem to be buying into it. This was going to take more work than he had thought. The best thing to do for now was to simply plow ahead with what he'd decided to do and give them time. It was what usually worked with his programs, so hopefully it would work here too.

"Now, I would assume you're wondering why make my debut here of all places. First, I want to confirm that I am _not_ going to be taking a paying job at Encom. I'm too busy elsewhere."

A small smile crossed his face.

"I'm sure you want to know where I've been all this time. It's been over twenty years since I disappeared, and as Alan was so kind as to remind me, I've been declared legally dead for over a decade. I left my young son orphaned just as Encom was starting to really get going. The minute details of that story can wait for a press conference that will, I'm sure, take place in the future, though I can tell you a little about where I've been."

There was more murmurings in the crowd as they stirred restlessly. Fresh doubts plagued Sam once more. What if this didn't work, and he, his father, and Alan were all discredited for it?

"First, I'd like to invite my two good friends up here with me," Flynn said loudly, interrupting Sam's thoughts. "Alan Bradley you all know. And where's Roy?" He grinned, scanning the crowd. "Roy Kleinberg, get up here."

Sam backed up, allowing room for Alan to pass by and approach his father. Unsurprisingly, Flynn greeted his old friend with a great hug and a big grin. There was a brief, murmured conversation meant just for them, before their attention was distracted by the older man climbing up the steps and shaking head to toe.

It was impossible to miss the enormous smile on his face and the fat tears that rolled slowly down his cheeks. Flynn chuckled lightly as he embraced the other man tightly, rubbing his back a little and smiling. Roy returned the hug with obvious enthusiasm, clearly thrilled beyond belief to see Flynn again.

"You sure took your time, Kev," he murmured, sniffling into his old friend's shoulder.

Flynn smiled and released him, holding him out at arms length. "I missed you too, Ram."

After a few moments, he turned back to the crowd, and Sam was slightly surprised to see that Roy wasn't bothering to hide his tears of joy at all. For this, he was quietly grateful. That would help convince the crowd that this was the real deal.

"I hope you don't mind if I get nostalgic for a moment," Flynn said into the microphone, one arm still clasped tightly around his weeping friend. "Alan, Roy, and I were all kids at Encom together. It's groovy to have the old trio back together again after all these years." He smiled slightly, and a moment later the screen behind him turned from white canvas to an old photo of the three in their younger years, all scrunched together in one cubicle and eating popcorn. The image made Sam smile.

"Sometimes we have to go backwards before we can start moving forwards," the older man continued. "Which is why I'd like to have my old friends help me introduce you to the future."

xXx

Backstage, Ram was practically panicking. "What if they don't believe us?" he hissed to Tron, who was waiting by the curtain, looking tense and pale.

The security program didn't even spare him a glance, listening intently to Flynn as he went on. "Shhh," he urged his smaller friend.

Ram fell silent, pacing and fidgeting anxiously. He'd never really been in front of a crowd before. Even when he'd worked back in the old days, it had all been mostly one on one, just him and a User. This was a whole new ball game. They didn't actually have to say anything, but he was still nervous. He wasn't sure how he would manage in a large setting. Quorra had slipped out some time earlier to rejoin the masses and watch from outside after Tron's urging, and now there was no one to hear out Ram's worries. Clearly Tron wasn't in the mood.

"Ram!"

Ram blinked, turning quickly at Tron's loud whisper.

"Come on. That's our cue."

Swallowing back his fear, the actuary ducked behind his friend and emerged onto the stage.


	15. Chapter 15

(A/N: my goodness I can't believe we're here already! It's been so much fun writing this and sharing it with all of you. This is actually my first piece of writing that I've actually completed in my 6 years of writing stuff, so it's really an exciting moment for me. I would love to give out individual thank you's, but seriously that would take up half this whole chapter, so instead I'll just say THANK YOU to all of you that have gone through this with me and put up with my horribly slow updates and gave me the most wonderful, thoughtful reviews and...man, I really love you all! I know it's helped me grow as a writer. Anyway, thank you for joining me on this and being totally super! End of line.)

The hour following Flynn's revelation passed by in a confusing blur of color and sound. Ram was only vaguely aware of the Creator's careful explanation of a world where programs led lives just as busy and real as their User counterparts. During the speech, Ram huddled close between Flynn and Tron, peering out with rather frightened brown eyes at the horde of Users. He spotted Lora fairly quickly. She caught his eye every now and again to give him a small smile, which he would return shyly. He tried not to focus too much on the enormous crowd or the fear it inspired, instead taking comfort in the reassuring sound of Flynn's voice and the warmth from Tron's slightly trembling form beside him.

It seemed to take cycles, but finally it ended, and the crowd dispersed, talking animatedly amongst themselves. Both programs let out a sigh of relief as music started up. A moment later, Flynn's warm arms had swallowed Ram up and he nearly went limp, giving a little breathless laugh.

"Good job, Ram," the User said warmly. "I'm proud of you."

He released the actuary and beamed at him before moving on to Tron. Alan and Sam were already deep in discussion, leaving Ram and Roy standing together and eyeing each other awkwardly.

"I never thought I'd ever actually meet my _User_," Ram gushed after a moment, unable to contain his excitement. "It's an honor, it really is."

Roy smiled fondly at his program. "I didn't even know you existed," he admitted sheepishly. "Sorry. I guess I'm not a very good, uh, User."

"Oh, no! Of course not!" The actuary was quite adamant about this. "You wrote me, you gave me a purpose, and you gave me the tools to do it. I couldn't ask any more than that. That's all I really need, anyway." He smiled brightly.

"You're cute," the User remarked, chuckling quietly. "So what's it like? Your world?"

Ram took a moment to consider. "I'm actually still getting used to it," he replied slowly. "See, I was derezzed in the cycles of the MCP, and Flynn only rewrote me a few milicycles ago. It's changed a lot, but it's still home." His eyes brightened. "You should come back with us and see it for yourself! You could come race with me and Tron on our lightcycles, and tour the city, and do all kinds of things! It'll be so fun!"

The smile on Roy's face brightened for a moment before fading somewhat, and he hesitated. "Oh, Ram, that sounds great, but I don't know...I'm a little busy here."

The program's face fell and he had an objection on his lips before he remembered himself. Roy was a User, and more than that, he was _his _User. It wasn't Ram's place to argue. "Oh," he replied quietly. "Okay."

Roy hesitated once more. Suddenly it made sense how Kevin had rarely said no to him. That sad look on Ram's face was heartbreaking. "Tell you what, Ram," he began, and the actuary's eyes rose to meet a pair of identical brown ones. "I'll do what I can, alright? And maybe I can find some time to visit you."

The program's excited smile was back in an instant. "Okay!"

Roy laughed at his younger twin. "C'mere, you," he invited, opening his arms and nudging the program into a hug. _Well_, Roy thought with a rueful smile, _now I know why Kev had a sudden desire to befriend awkward little me._

xXx

"Hey, Ram! I think you owe me a dance!"

Ram giggled and looked over at Lora, already pink-cheeked from the few fizzy drinks he'd consumed. The User was halfway to the dance floor and grinning expectantly at her little partner.

"Coming!" He gave Tron a quick, one-armed hug and skipped away from the circular table to take Lora's hand. Tron snorted in some amusement, sharing a quick glance with Alan.

"No more drinks for him." User and program spoke in complete unison before glancing at each other and laughing.

"He's _exactly _how I used to be," Roy mused, watching the actuary and Lora with a smile.

"And he's just as much of a handful," Flynn remarked with a quiet chuckle.

Tron snorted. "You don't know the half of it. You didn't sit through all those cycles in the Games with him."

"What were the Games like in the old system?" Sam asked curiously, watching the monitor.

"Under the Master Control?" Tron gave a short, humorless laugh and took a sip of his champagne. "Just as brutal as under Clu. There was a little more variety then, though. You never knew what game you'd get taken to."

"Master Control as in the Master Control Program?" Roy guessed, some excitement in his voice. "That was back in '82 with Dillinger Senior. It malfunctioned and shut down, didn't it?"

Alan chuckled quietly. "Actually no. Ram, Tron, and Flynn all brought down the MCP from inside."

"Really?" Roy's eyes sparkled.

"Yeah, I think that's a story worth retelling," Sam commented with a small smile. Quorra nodded in agreement, leaning back and curling comfortably against the younger Flynn.

Tron smiled tightly and picked up his glass, standing up and pushing his chair back where it belonged. "I think I'm going to go get some air."

xXx

Kevin Flynn was just as good of a storyteller as Sam remembered, and it was with great amusement that he listened quietly to the tale of how his father accidentally stumbled across the Grid. This time, though, with no small children to shelter from the grim reality of life, Sam heard details that he'd never known before. This time he heard all about Ram's role in Flynn's adventure, from being the snarky cellmate, to the adventurous fellow escapee, and finally, to the good friend that died in Flynn's arms. There were a few sniffles and wiped eyes at that part of the story, particularly from the storyteller himself and Roy.

At the triumphant conclusion of one story, however, Roy called eagerly for the next. Everyone else, all familiar with the details of what followed, exchanged uneasy glances.

"That's a bit of a sadder story," Flynn explained gently. "Another time, old friend. I will tell you, but not now."

Roy nodded and a silence fell across the table, interrupted only by the beginning of another song. In the corner of the room, Ram and Lora were still dancing. It looked like she was trying to teach him a waltz. Sam smiled to himself for a moment before getting to his feet. Quorra watched him quizzically.

"What do you think? You wanna dance one song with me?" he asked her with a soft smile, holding a hand out.

The ISO's cheeks flushed pink and she smiled back shyly, but she made no move to accept his offer. "Oh, Sam, I would love to, but you know I'm not supposed to do anything strenuous."

"It won't be," Sam promised. "We'll be nice and gentle. Trust me."

Quorra glanced over at Flynn. He chuckled and nodded, quietly amused. There was another second of hesitation before she smiled brightly at Sam and took his hand.

"Of course I trust you," she laughed lightly.

"Oh good, I was worried for a second there," he teased, leading her onto the dance floor. He was slightly surprised when she assumed the traditional dancing position without being told or taught how. She laughed quietly at his surprise, letting her right hand rest on his shoulder as the other took his hand. "I've been watching people," she explained.

He nodded and smiled affectionately at her. "You look beautiful tonight."

A fresh wave of color rose in her cheeks and she beamed. "Just tonight?"

The User chuckled. "Every night, but even more so tonight."

"Oh, come on. It's just a dress and some make up."

"The little things end up making the big difference," Sam replied with a shrug. "But I think it's more than that."

"Oh?"

He smiled. "We built this together. It's a big, scary world out there, but we're making it ours. You and me, Quorra. We're changing the world and carving our names into it. And it doesn't matter what anyone does or says about what we're doing, because for some reason I just...I don't _care_ anymore what they think."

Sam let out a breath and looked at her. "No one's made me feel like this before. When I met you, suddenly it was like...I could do _anything._ Look how far we've come already! We actually _are_ changing the world, and it if weren't for you, I would have never even tried just because it seemed so..._impossible._" He let out a little breathless laugh, matching her gaze with an intense one of his own.

"What I'm trying to say is that...after spending so much time with you, I'm starting to feel something I never thought I'd get to experience after going through the crap childhood I did." His expression was completely serious now. "Quorra...I love you."

His declaration was met with surprised pale eyes, and their slow rotations on the spot stopped. Quorra didn't breathe for a long moment before the sweetest of smiles crossed her lips.

"Really?" she whispered, almost afraid that if she spoke up, she'd break the spell and discover it was all a dream.

Sam chuckled softly. "Really," he breathed back, and then he kissed her.

xXx

Flynn watched the young couple with a smile before turning back to Alan. Roy had left to grab a few more drinks for them, leaving the table empty but for the two older men.

"Have you ever seen two kids more in love?" Flynn remarked fondly.

"Reminds me of you and Jordan, actually," Alan replied with a smile. "Doesn't it make you feel so old? I've watched Sam grow up, and now look at him. He hasn't had so much as a date since high school."

"It's crazy." Flynn nodded in agreement. "Everything's changing, man. I don't blame them for taking advantage of it."

Alan laughed suddenly, making his friend raise an eyebrow in surprise.

"If they're anything like you were, you should be getting ready to gain a daughter soon," he smirked.

Flynn chuckled. "I think I gained her as a daughter twenty years ago."

At that moment, a distraction presented itself in the form of Ram and Lora returning. Lora flopped down in the vacant seat between Flynn and Alan while Ram took the chair on Flynn's other side.

"Is it too early for congratulations?" Lora teased Flynn with a playful grin. He rolled his eyes.

Ram, however, was too preoccupied to laugh. "Hey, where's Tron?"

"I think he said he was going out to get air, but that was close to an hour ago," the monitor's User replied, peering at his watch. "I didn't realize it was that long ago."

The actuary frowned. "I'm gonna go find him," he announced.

xXx

It took a good half hour of hunting before Ram finally found Tron on the rooftop. He was leaning against the edge and gazing out quietly at the beautiful nighttime cityscape. The actuary swallowed, giving himself a stern reminder not to look down.

"Tron?"

The security program turned at the familiar voice to see his best friend, curly hair a tangled mess, bow tie crooked, and his countenance unusually flushed. Tron must have been outside longer than he had calculated. With a small smile and a sigh, he stepped away from the edge and towards his little friend.

"Hello, Ram," he replied.

It was funny how those two words made the actuary light up. He closed the distance between them with a few stumbling skips and wrapped his arms tight around his friend.

"Are you okay?" Ram asked, concern in his voice. "Alan-One said you've been out here for ages. I would have come looking for you earlier but I was dancing..."

Tron smiled gently, releasing Ram after a moment to ruffle his already messy hair. "I've just been thinking," he explained. "I'm fine."

"Thinking about what?"

"You, actually." Ram blinked in surprise and Tron continued. "I've been wanting to really talk to you since I kicked Flynn out of my apartment."

The actuary's lips formed a silent 'oh' of understanding. "You mean about Rinzler. I thought we did, back at the hospital on our first night here?"

The monitor was seized with mild frustration. "No, I-no. We started to, but there were more things I wanted to say."

Ram nodded. "Oh, okay. I'm listening."

Tron sighed and nodded as well. He'd been trying to think of a good way to continue this conversation for days, but now that he was actually faced with the situation, he couldn't think of the words he wanted. "I-I just wanted you to know that...all of those things that happened...all of the things that I did and all the programs that I-I derezzed...It wasn't really me, Ram. I mean, it _was_, but I was a different person then, and-"

"Wait, Tron, are...are you _apologizing_ to me?" Ram interrupted, incredulity on his face.

The monitor frowned slightly, confused. "Yes?" he replied, feeling somewhat sheepish now.

What happened next astonished him even more. The little program started to _laugh_. This wasn't the way this conversation was supposed to go! Utterly lost and completely taken aback, Tron couldn't even formulate a response.

Ram finally calmed after a moment or two, regarding the startled monitor with some amusement. "Tron, you don't have to apologize!" he said with a smile. "I had to think about it a little myself, and I know that none of it was your fault. You just said it yourself; you were a different person then. If there's anything I feel about it, then I'd have to say I'm _proud_ of you!"

"I..._what_?" Tron blurted out helplessly, now even more lost. "How can you be proud of me for what I did?"

The actuary smiled again, putting a gentle hand to his friend's cheek. "Don't you see, Tron? What _you_ did was brave and loyal, exactly what I would have expected from you. You sacrificed yourself to save your friend. Everything after that was Rinzler."

He sighed softly. "I always said you were more than a match for any opponent, and I was right, wasn't I? Because who really won in the end? It was _Tron,_ not Rinzler!" He brushed Tron's long dark hair out of his eyes. "_That's_ why I'm proud of you."

Tron couldn't breathe for a moment. He searched those warm brown eyes for some sign, looking for the expected pity or disappointment, but found none. All that was written there was quiet adoration, and, yes, a blazing pride in his best friend.

Gratitude like he had never known stuck in his throat and burned at the corners of his eyes. Ram, his Ram, his best friend, had somehow known exactly what Tron had been needing so badly to hear, and more than that, he'd really _meant_ it. He pulled the actuary into a tight hug. bowing his head until his face was hidden in Ram's shoulder.

"Thank you, Ram," he whispered, and a moment later, Tron, Champion of the Game Grid, Head of Security, was sobbing quietly into the actuary's shoulder.

It didn't really matter what future lay ahead of them. The Portal was impassable until repairs could be made, and until then, the two programs had no choice but to dwell in a strange, frightening world that was changing quickly. But there was nothing to worry about, nothing to fear, because Tron had the _best glitching friend _in any world out there, who would always love him no matter how badly he screwed up, and would always, _always,_ be by his side.

Together, they were invincible.

"It's alright, Tron," Ram shushed affectionately, rubbing a warm, slow hand across his friend's back and nuzzling him lightly. His voice caught. "I missed the old you, too."

END OF LINE

(A/N: Keep your eyes peeled for a sequel to appear in the coming months! I've got all sorts of ideas)


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